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OUTING ADVENTURE LIBRARY 

FIRST THROUGH THE 
GRAND CANYON 

By major JOHN WESLEY POWELL 



Being the Record of the Pioneer Exploration 
of the Colorado River in 1869-70 



EDITED BY 

HORACE KEPHART 




NEW YORK 

OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY 

MCMXV 



Ff^F- 



Copyright, 1915, by 
OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY 



All rights reserved. 



^/^ 



©CI,A4:10476 

SEP '51915 



INTRODUCTION 

The Colorado River of the West is 
formed in southeastern Utah by the junc- 
tion of the Grand and Green rivers. For 
hundreds of miles it flows through a series 
of profound chasms, in many places from 
4,000 to 6,000 feet deep, and rising nearly 
vertically for a considerable distance above 
the water. These canons are from one to 
fifteen miles wide at the top. The most 
famous of them is the Marble- Grand 
canon (really continuous, although it goes 
under two names, the Marble and the 
Grand) . Through this vast gorge the Col- 
orado drops 2,330 feet in 283 miles, the cur- 
rent sometimes attaining a velocity of 
twenty-five miles an hour. The river itself 
varies in width from seventy-five feet to a 
quarter of a mile. In the narrowest places 
it has at times a depth of over 100 feet, 



6 INTRODUCTION 

Up to 1869 practically nothing was 
known of the Colorado River from its 
source to where it emerges into the valley 
of the Grand Wash, except what could be 
observed from look-out points at the tops 
of the canons, or from the few places where 
descents had been made to the bottom. It 
was a river of mystery and of fear. For 
long distances it was supposed to flow un- 
dergi^ound. There was no evidence that 
any human being had ever passed through 
the canons and come out alive. The In- 
dians who lived in the neighborhood consid- 
ered such a feat preposterous. 

Then came a scientist and a man of 
nerve. Major John Wesley Powell, who 
studied the river carefully at several points 
along its bank, and calmly decided to risk 
his life in clearing up the mystery by navi- 
gating the stream clear through to the 
Wash. 

The undertaking was all the more re- 
markable from the fact that Powell had 
only one arm. He had lost his right arm 



INTRODUCTION 7 

in the battle of Shiloh. His plucky young 
wife, to whom he had been married but a 
month, was present at headquarters when 
he was wounded, and promptly offered her- 
self as a substitute for the missing limb so 
that her husband could continue in service. 
She then and there enhsted, and General 
Grant gave her a "perpetual pass" to fol- 
low the army in the capacity she had 
chosen. With this help Major Powell con- 
tinued in active service to the close of the 
war. 

In his student days Powell had made a 
specialty of what was then called "natural 
history." When the war was over he ac- 
cepted a professorship of geology in the Il- 
linois Wesleyan University, and later held 
a similar chair in the Illinois Normal Uni- 
versity. In the summer of 1867 he initiated 
the practice of student field work by taking 
his class to the mountains of Colorado for 
geological exploration. It was on this trip 
that he formed the idea of exploring the 
canons of the Colorado River of the West. 



8 INTRODUCTION 

Having obtained funds from public institu- 
tions of Illinois to outfit his little expedition, 
he started from Green River City, above 
the head of the Colorado proper. May 24, 
1869, on one of the most hazardous adven- 
tures in the history of exploration. He 
emerged from the Grand Canon on August 
29, with five of the nine men he had started 
with. Four had deserted on the way, and 
three of these were killed by Indians. 

Major Powell's report on this first ex- 
ploration of the Colorado River was pub- 
lished by the Smithsonian Institution in 
1875. Together with the scientific data ap- 
pended, it forms a large quarto volume, 
which is now out of print. The narrative 
part is here republished without abridge- 
ment. 

In 1870, Congress established a Topo- 
graphical and Geological Survey of the Col- 
orado River of the West, and Powell was 
placed in charge of it. In 1871-1872 he 
made a second descent of the river, this time 
for the government. Again he came through 



INTRODUCTION 9 

unharmed, proving his mastery of a species 
of navigation so difficult that many who 
have tried it in later years have perished in 
those brawling waters. 

Much of Powell's attention was given to 
American ethnology, and when a Bureau of 
Ethnology was formed by the government, 
he was appointed its director. In 1881 he 
succeeded Clarence King as director of the 
U. S. Geological Survey. Major Powell 
died September 23, 1902. 

Horace Kephart. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Valley of the Colorado . . . 15 

II From Green River City to Flaming 

Gorge ... 27 

III From Flaming Gorge to the Gate of 

LODORE 39 

IV The Canyon of Lodore 60 

V From Echo Park to the Mouth of the 

Uinta River 83 

VI From the Mouth of the Uinta River to 

Junction of the Grand and Green . 113 

VII From the Junction of the Grand and 
Green to the Mouth of the Little 
Colorado 142 

^III The Grand Canyon of the Colorado . 198 

IX The Rio Virgen and the U-In-Ka-Ret 

Mountains 258 



FIRST THROUGH THE 
GRAND CANYON 



CHAPTER I 

THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 

THE Colorado River is formed by 
the junction of the Grand and 
Green. 
The Grand River has its source in the 
Rocky Mountains, five or six miles west of 
Long's Peak, in latitude 40° 17' and longi- 
tude lOS"" 43' approximately. A group of 
little alpine lakes, that receive their waters 
directly from perpetual snow-banks, dis- 
charge into a common reservoir, known as 
Grand Lake, a beautiful sheet of water. Its 
quiet surface reflects towering cliffs and 
crags of granite on its eastern shore; and 
stately pines and firs stand on its western 
margin. 

The Green River heads near Fremont's 
Peak, in the Wind River Mountains, in lati- 

15 



16 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

tude 43° 15' and longitude 109° 45', approx- 
imately. This river, like the last, has its 
sources in alpine lakes, fed by everlasting 
snows. Thousands of these little lakes, 
with deep, cold, emerald waters, are embos- 
omed among the crags of the Rocky Moun- 
tains. These streams, born in the cold, 
gloomy solitudes of the upper mountain re- 
gion, have a strange, eventful history as they 
pass down through gorges, tumbling in cas- 
cades and cataracts, until they reach the hot, 
arid plains of the Lower Colorado, where 
the waters that were so clear above empty 
as turbid floods into the Gulf of California. 

The mouth of the Colorado is in latitude 
Sr 53' and longitude 115°. 

The Green River is larger than the 
Grand, and is the upper continuation of the 
Colorado. Including this river, the whole 
length of the stream is about two thousand 
miles. The region of country drained by 
the Colorado and its tributaries is about 
eight hundred miles in length, and varies 
from three hundred to five hundred in width. 



THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 17 

containing about three hundred thousand 
square miles, an area larger than all the New 
England and Middle States, and Maryland 
and Virginia added, or as large as Min- 
nesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, and Mis- 
souri. 

There are two distinct portions of the 
basin of the Colorado. The lower third is 
but little above the level of the sea, though 
here and there ranges of mountains rise to 
an altitude of from two to six thousand feet. 
This part of the valley is bounded on the 
north by a line of cliffs, that present a bold, 
often vertical step, hundreds or thousands 
of feet to the table-lands above. 

The upper two-thirds of the basin rises 
from four to eight thousand feet above the 
level of the sea. This high region, on the 
east, north, and west, is set with ranges of 
snow-clad mountains, attaining an altitude 
above the sea varying from eight to fourteen 
thousand feet. All winter long, on its 
mountain-crested rim, snow falls, filling the 
gorges, half burying the forests, and cover- 



18 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ing the crags and peaks with a mantle woven 
by the winds from the waves of the sea — 
a mantle of snow. Wlien the summer-sun 
comes, this snow melts, and tumbles down 
the mountain-sides in millions of cascades. 
Ten million cascade brooks unite to form ten 
thousand torrent creeks; ten thousand tor- 
rent creeks unite to form a hundred rivers 
beset with cataracts; a hundred roaring riv- 
ers unite to form the Colorado, which rolls, 
a mad, turbid stream, into the Gulf of Cali- 
fornia. 

Consider the action of one of these 
streams: its source in the mountains, where 
the snows fall; its course through the arid 
plains. Now, if at the river's flood storms 
were falling on the plains, its channel would 
be cut but little faster than the adjacent 
country would be washed, and the general 
level would thus be preserved; but, under 
the conditions here mentioned, the river 
deepens its bed, as there is much through 
corrosion and but little lateral degradation. 

So all the streams cut deeper and still 



THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 19 

deeper until their banks are towering cliffs 
of solid rock. These deep, narrow gorges 
are called canons. 

For more than a thousand miles along its 
course, the Colorado has cut for itself such 
a canon; but at some few points, where lat- 
eral streams join it, the canon is broken, and 
narrow, transverse valleys divide it properly 
into a series of canons. 

The Virgen, Kanab, Paria, Escalante, 
Dirty Devil, San Rafael, Price, and Uinta 
on the west, the Grand, Yampa, San Juan, 
and Colorado Chiquito on the east, have also 
cut for themselves such narrow, winding 
gorges, or deep canons. Every river enter- 
ing these has cut another canon; every lat- 
eral creek has cut a canon ; every brook runs 
in a canon; every rill born of a shower, and 
born again of a shower, and living only dur- 
ing these showers, has cut for itself a canon ; 
so that the whole upper portion of the basin 
of the Colorado is traversed by a labyrinth 
of these deep gorges. 

Owing to a great variety of geological 



20 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

conditions, these canons differ much in gen- 
eral aspect. The Rio Virgen, between Long 
Valley and the Mormon town of Schunes- 
burgh, runs through Pa-ru'-nu-weap Canon, 
often not more than twenty or thirty feet 
in width, and from six hundred to one thou- 
sand five hundred feet deep. 

Away to the north, the Yampa empties 
into the Green by a canon that I essayed to 
cross in the fall of 1868, and was baffled from 
day to day until the fourth had nearly passed 
before I could find my way down to the 
river. But thirty miles above its mouth, 
this canon ends, and a narrow valley, with 
a flood-plain, is found. Still farther up the 
stream, the river comes down through an- 
other canon, and beyond that a narrow val- 
ley is found, and its upper course is now 
through a canon and now a valley. 

All these canons are alike changeable in 
their topographic characteristics. 

The longest canon through which the Col- 
orado runs is that between the mouth of the 
Colorado Chiquito and the Grand Wash, a 



THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 21 

distance of two hundred and seventeen and 
a half miles. But this is separated from an- 
other above, sixty-five and a half miles in 
length, only by the narrow canon-valley of 
the Colorado Chiquito. 

All the scenic features of this canon land 
are on a giant scale, strange and weird. The 
streams run at depths almost inaccessible; 
lashing the rocks which beset their channels ; 
rolling in rapids, and plunging in falls, and 
making a wild music which but adds to the 
gloom of the solitude. 

The little valleys nestling along the 
streams are diversified by bordering willows, 
clumps of box-elder, and small groves of Cot- 
tonwood. 

Low mesas, dry and treeless, stretch back 
from the brink of the canon, often showing 
smooth surfaces of naked, solid rock. In 
some places, the country rock being com- 
posed of marls, the surface is a bed of loose, 
disintegrated material, and you walk through 
it as in a bed of ashes. Often these marls 
are richly colored and variegated. In other 



22 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

places, the country rock is a loose sandstone, 
the disintegration of which has left broad 
stretches of drifting sand, white, golden, and 
vermilion. 

Where this sandstone is a conglomerate, 
a paving of pebbles has been left, a mosaic 
of many colors, polished by the drifting 
sands, and glistening in the sunlight. 

After the canons, the most remarkable 
features of the country are the long lines of 
cliffs. These are bold escarpments, often 
hundreds or thousands of feet in altitude, 
great geographic steps, scores or hundreds 
of miles in length, presenting steep faces of 
rock, often quite vertical. 

Having climbed one of these steps, you 
may descend by a gentle, sometimes imper- 
ceptible, slope to the foot of another. They 
will thus present a series of terraces, the 
steps of which are well-defined escarpments 
of rock. The lateral extension of such a 
line of cliffs is usually very irregular ; sharp 
salients are projected on the plains below. 



THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 23 

and deep recesses are cut into the terraces 
above. 

Intermittent streams coming down the 
cliffs have cut many canons or canon valleys, 
by which the traveler may pass from the 
plain below to the terrace above. By these 
gigantic stairways, you may ascend to high 
plateaus, covered with forests of pine and 
fir. 

The region is further diversified by short 
ranges of eruptive mountains. A vast sys- 
tem of fissures — huge cracks in the rocks to 
the depths below — extends across the coun- 
try. From these crevices, floods of lava 
have poured, covering mesas and table-lands 
with sheets of black basalt. The expiring 
energies of these volcanic agencies have 
piled up huge cinder-cones, that stand along 
the fissures, red, brown, and black, naked of 
vegetation, and conspicuous landmarks, set, 
as they are, in contrast to the bright, varie- 
gated rocks of sedimentary origin. 

These canon gorges, obstructing clifiPs 



^4 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

and desert wastes, have prevented the trav- 
eler from penetrating the country, so that, 
until the Colorado River Exploring Expe- 
dition was organized, it was almost unknown* 
Yet enough had been seen to foment rumor, 
and many wonderful stories have been told 
in the hunter's cabin and prospector's camp. 
Stories were related of parties entering the 
gorge in boats, and being carried down with 
fearful velocity into whirlpools, where all 
were overwhelmed in the abyss of waters; 
others, of underground passages for the 
great river, into which boats had passed 
never to be seen again. It was currently 
believed that the river was lost under the 
rocks for several hundred miles. There 
were other accounts of great falls, whose 
roaring music could be heard on the distant 
mountain-summits. There were many 
stories current of parties wandering on the 
brink of the canon, vainly endeavoring to 
reach the waters below, and perishing with 
thirst at last in sight of the river which was 
roaring its mockery into dying ears. 



THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 25 

The Indians, too, have woven the mys- 
teries of the canons into the myths of their 
rehgion. Long ago, there was a great and 
wise chief, who mourned the death of his 
wife, and would not be comforted until Ta- 
vwoats, one of the Indian gods, came to him, 
and told him she was in a happier land, and 
offered to take him there, that he might see 
for himself, if, upon his return, he would 
cease to mourn. The great chief promised. 
Then Ta-vwoats made a trail through the 
mountains that intervene between that beau- 
tiful land and this, the desert home of the 
poor Nu'-ma. 

This trail was the canon gorge of the Col- 
orado. Through it he led him; and, when 
they had returned, the deity exacted from 
the chief a promise that he would tell no one 
of the joys of that land, lest, through discon- 
tent with the circumstances of this world, 
they should desire to go to heaven. Then 
he rolled a river into the gorge, a mad, rag- 
ing stream, that should engulf any that might 
attempt to enter thereby. 



S6 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

More than once have I been warned by 
the Indians not to enter this canon. They 
considered it disobedience to the gods and 
contempt for their authority, and believed 
that it would surely bring upon me their 
wrath. 

For two years previous to the exploration, 
I had been making some geological studies 
among the heads of the canons leading to the 
Colorado, and a desire to explore the Grand 
Canon itself grew upon me. Early in the 
spring of 1869, a small party was organized 
for this purpose. Boats were built in Chi- 
cago, and transported by rail to the point 
where the Union Pacific Railroad crosses 
the Green River. With these we were to 
descend the Green into the Colorado, and the 
Colorado down to the foot of the Grand 
Canon, 



CHAPTER II 

FROM GREEN RIYER CITY TO FLAMING GORGE 

MAY 24, 1869.— The good people of 
Green River City turn out to see 
us start. We raise our little flag, 
push the boats from shore, and the swift cur- 
rent carries us down. 

Our boats are four in number. Three are 
built of oak; stanch and firm; double- 
ribbed, with double stem and stern posts, 
and further strengthened by bulkheads, di- 
viding each into three compartments. 

Two of these, the fore and aft, are decked, 
forming water-tight cabins. It is expected 
these will buoy the boats should the waves 
roll over them in rough water. The little 
vessels are twenty-one feet long, and, taking 
out the cargoes, can be carried by four men. 
The fourth boat is made of pine, very 

27 



28 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

light, but sixteen feet in length, with a sharp 
cut-water, and every way built for fast row- 
ing, and divided into compartments as the 
others. 

We take with us rations deemed sufficient 
to last ten months ; for we expect, when win- 
ter comes on and the river is filled with ice, 
to lie over at some point until spring arrives ; 
so we take with us abundant supplies of 
clothing. We have also a large quantity of 
ammunition and two or three dozen traps. 
For the purpose of building cabins, repair- 
ing boats, and meeting other exigencies, we 
are supplied with axes, hammers, saws, au- 
gers, and other tools, and a quantity of nails 
and screws. For scientific work, we have 
two sextants, four chronometers, a number 
of barometers, thermometers, compasses, and 
other instruments. 

The flour is divided into three equal parts ; 
the meat and all other articles of our rations 
in the same way. Each of the larger boats 
has an ax, hammer, saw, auger, and other 
tools, so that all are loaded alike. We dis- 



GREEN RIVER CITY 29 

tribute the cargoes in this way, that we may 
not be entirely destitute of some important 
article should any one of the boats be lost. 
In the small boat, we pack a part of the sci- 
entific instruments, three guns, and three 
small bundles of clothing only. In this, I 
proceed in advance, to explore the channel. 

J. C. Sumner and William H. Dunn are 
my boatmen in the Emma Dean; * then 
follows Kitty Clyde's Sister, manned by 
W. H. Powell** and G. Y. Bradley; next, 
the No Name, with O. G. Howland, Sen- 
eca Howland, and Frank Gopdman ; and last 
comes the Maid of the Canon, with W. R. 
Hawkins and Andrew Hall. 

Our boats are heavily loaded, and only 
with the utmost care is it possible to float in 
the rough river without shipping water. 

A mile or two below town, we run on a 
sand-bar. The men jump into the stream, 
and thus lighten the vessels, so that they 

* Mrs. Powell's maiden name. {Ed.) 

**Capt. Walter Powell, the Major's youngest brother. 
Besides the two Powells, Sumner, Bradley, and Hawkins 
were ex-soldiers. (Ed.) 



so FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

drift over; and on we go. In trying to 
avoid a rock, an oar is broken on one of the 
boats, and, thus crippled, she strikes. The 
current is swift, and she is sent reehng and 
rocking into the eddy. In the confusion, 
two others are lost overboard and the men 
seem quite discomfited, much to the amuse- 
ment of the other members of the party. 

. Catching the oars and starting again, the 
boats are once more borne down the stream 
until we land at a small cottonwood grove 
on the bank, and camp for noon. 

During the afternoon, we run down to a 
point where the river sweeps the foot of an 
overhanging cliff, and here we camp for the 
night. The sun is yet two hours high, so 
I climb the cliffs, and walk back among the 
strangely carved rocks of the Green Hiver 
bad-lands. These are sandstones and 
shales, gray and buff, red and brown, blue 
and black strata in many alternations, lying 
nearly horizontal, and almost without soil 
and vegetation. They are very friable, and 



GREEN RIVER CITY 31 

the rain and streams have carved them 
into quaint shapes. Barren desolation is 
stretched before me; and yet there is a beauty 
in the scene. The fantastic carving, imi- 
tating architectural forms, and suggesting 
rude but weird statuary, with the bright and 
varied colors of the rocks, conspire to make 
a scene such as the dweller in verdure-clad 
hills can scarcely appreciate. 

Standing on a high point, I can look off 
in every direction over a vast landscape, with 
salient rocks and cliffs glittering in the even- 
ing sun. Dark shadows are settling in the 
valleys and gulches, and the heights are made 
higher and the depths deeper by the glamour 
and witchery of light and shade. 

Away to the south, the Uinta Mountains 
stretch in a long line ; high peaks thrust into 
the sky, and snow-fields glittering like lakes 
of molten silver; and pine-forests in somber 
green; and rosy clouds playing around the 
borders of huge, black masses; and heights 
and clouds, and mountains and snow-fields, 



S2 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

and forests and rock-lands, are blended into 
one grand view. Now the sun goes down, 
and I return to camp. 

Ma7/ 25. — We start early this morning, 
and run along at a good rate until about nine 
o'clock, when we are brought up on a grav- 
elly bar. All jump out, and help the boats 
over by main strength. Then a rain comes 
on, and river and clouds conspire to give us 
a thorough drenching. Wet, chilled, and 
tired to exhaustion, we stop at a cottonwood 
grove on the bank, build a huge fire, make 
a cup of coffee, and are soon refreshed and 
quite merry. When the clouds ''get out of 
our sunshine," we start again. A few miles 
farther down, a flock of mountain-sheep are 
seen on a cliff to the right. The boats are 
quietly tied up, and three or four men go 
after them. In the course of two or three 
hours, they return. The cook has been suc- 
cessful in bringing down a fat lamb. The 
unsuccessful hunters taunt him with finding 
it dead; but it is soon dressed, cooked, and 
eaten, making a fine four o'clock dinner. 



GREEN RIVER CITY 3S 

"All aboard," and down the river for an- 
other dozen miles. On the way, we pass the 
mouth of Black's Fork, a dirty little stream 
that seems somewhat swollen. Just below 
its mouth, we land and camp. 

May 26. — To-daj^ we pass several curi- 
ously-shaped buttes, standing between the 
west bank of the river and the high bluffs 
beyond. These buttes are outliers of the 
same beds of rocks exposed on the faces of 
the bluffs ; thinly laminated shales and sand- 
stones of many colors, standing above in 
vertical cliffs, and buttressed below with a 
water-carved talus; some of them attain an 
altitude of nearly a thousand feet above the 
level of the river. 

We glide quietly down the placid stream 
past the carved cliffs of the mauvaises terres, 
now and then obtaining glimpses of distant 
mountains. Occasionally, deer are started 
from the glades among the willows ; and sev- 
eral wild geese, after a chase through the 
water, are shot. 

After dinner, we pass through a short. 



34 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

narrow canon into a broad valley ; from this, 
long, lateral valleys stretch back on either 
side as far as the eye can reach. 

Two or three miles below, Henry's Fork 
enters from the right. We land a short dis- 
tance above the junction, where a cache of 
instruments and rations was made several 
months ago, in a cave at the foot of the cliff, 
a distance back from the river. Here it was 
safe from the elements and wild beasts, but 
not from man. Some anxiety is felt, as we 
have learned that a party of Indians have 
been camped near it for several weeks. Our 
fears are soon allayed, for we find it all right. 
Our chronometer wheels are not taken for 
hair ornaments; our barometer tubes, for 
beads; nor the sextant thrown into the river 
as "bad medicine," as had been predicted. 

Taking up our cache, we pass down to 
the foot of the Uinta Mountains, and, in a 
cold storm, go into camp. 

The river is running to the south; the 
mountains have an easterly and westerly 
trend directly athwart its course, yet it glides 



GREEN RIVER CITY 35 

on in a quiet way as if it thought a mountain 
range no formidable obstruction to its course. 
It enters the range by a flaring, brilliant, red 
gorge, that may be seen from the north a 
score of miles away. 

The great mass of the mountain-ridge 
through which the gorge is cut is composed 
of bright vermilion rocks; but they are sur- 
mounted by broad bands of mottled buff and 
gray, and these bands come down with a gen- 
tle curve to the water's edge on the nearer 
slope of the mountain. 

This is the head of the first canon we are 
about to explore — an introductory one to 
a series made by the river through this range. 
We name it Flaming Gorge. The cliffs or 
walls we find, on measurement, to be about 
one thousand two hundred feet high. 

May 27. — To-day it rains, and we employ 
the time in repairing one of our barometers, 
which was broken on the way from New 
York. A new tube has to be put in ; that is, 
a long glass tube has to be filled with mer- 
cury four or five inches at a time, and each 



36 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

installment boiled over a spirit-lamp. It 
is a delicate task to do this without breaking 
the glass ; but we have success, and are ready 
to measure the mountains once more. 

May 28. — To-day we go to the summit of 
the cliff on the left and take observations for 
altitude, and are variously employed in topo- 
graphic and geological work. 

May 29 — This morning, Bradley and I 
cross the river, and climb more than a thou- 
sand feet to a point where we can see the 
stream sweeping in a long, beautiful curve 
through the gorge below. Turning and 
looking to the west, we can see the valley of 
Henry's Fork, through which, for many 
miles, the little river flows in a tortuous chan- 
nel. Cottonwood groves are planted here 
and there along its course, and between them 
are stretches of grass land. The narrow 
mountain valley is inclosed on either side by 
sloping walls of naked rock of many bright 
colors. To the south of the valley are the 
Uintas, and the peaks of the Wasatch Moun- 
tains can be faintly seen in the far west. To 



GREEN RIVER CITY 37 

the north, desert plains, dotted here and there 
with curiously carved hills and buttes, extend 
to the limit of vision. 

For many years, this valley has been the 
home of a number of mountaineers, who 
were originally hunters and trappers, living 
with the Indians. Most of them have one 
or more Indian wives. They no longer 
roam with the nomadic tribes in pursuit of 
buckskin or beaver, but have accumulated 
herds of cattle and horses, and consider them- 
selves quite well-to-do. Some of them have 
built cabins ; others still live in lodges. 

John Baker is one of the most famous of 
these men; and, from our point of view, we 
can see his lodge tliree or four miles up the 
river. 

The distance frorti Green Kiver City to 
Flaming Gorge is sixty-two miles. The 
river runs between bluffs, in some places 
standing so close to each other that no flood- 
plain is seen. At such a point, the river 
might properly be said to run through a 
canon. The bad-lands on either side are in- 



38 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

terrupted here and there by patches of 
Artemesia^ or sage-brush. Where there is 
a flood-plain along either side of the river, 
a few cottonwoods may be seen. 



CHAPTER III 

FROM FLAMING GORGE TO THE GATE OF 
LODORE 

YOU must not think of a mountain- 
range as a line of peaks standing 
on a plain, but as a broad plat- 
form many miles wide, from which moun- 
tains have been carved by the waters. You 
must conceive, too, that this plateau is cut 
by gulches and canons in many directions, 
and that beautiful valleys are scattered about 
at different altitudes. The first series of 
canons we are about to explore constitutes a 
river channel through such a range of moun- 
tains. The canon is cut nearly half-way 
through the range, then turns to the east, 
and is cut along the central line, or axis, 
gradually crossing it to the south. Keep- 
ing this direction for more than fifty miles, 

39 



40 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

it then turns abruptly to a southwest course, 
and goes diagonally through the southern 
slope of the range. 

This much we knew before entering, as 
we made a partial exploration of the region 
last fall, climbing many of its peaks, and in 
a few places reaching the brink of the canon 
walls, and looking over the precipices, many 
hundi^eds of feet high, to the water below. 

Here and there the walls are broken by 
lateral canons, the channels of little streams 
entering the river; through two or three of 
these, we found our way down to the Green 
in early winter, and walked along the low 
water-beach at the foot of the cliffs for sev- 
eral miles. Where the river has this gen- 
eral easterly direction, the western part only 
has cut for itself a canon, while the eastern 
has formed a broad valley, called, in honor 
of an old-time trapper, Brown's Park, and 
long known as a favorite winter resort for 
mountain men and Indians. 

May 30. — This morning we are ready to 
enter the mysterious canon, and start with 



FLAMING GORGE 41 

some anxiety. The old mountaineers tell us 
that it cannot be run; the Indians say, "Wa- 
ter heap catch 'em," but all are eager for the 
trial, and off we go. 

Entering Flaming Gorge, we quickly run 
through it on a swift current, and emerge 
into a little park. Half a mile below, the 
river wheels sharply to the left, and we 
turn into another canon cut into the moun- 
tain. We enter the narrow passage. On 
either side, the walls rapidly increase in 
altitude. On the left are overhanging 
ledges and cliffs five hundred — a thousand — 
fifteen hundred feet high. 

On the right, the rocks are broken and 
ragged, and the water fills the channel from 
cKff to cliff. Now the river turns abruptly 
around a point to the right, and the waters 
plunge swiftly down among great rocks ; and 
here we have our first experience with canon 
rapids. I stand up on the deck of my boat 
to seek a way among the wave beaten rocks. 
All untried as we are with such waters, the 
moments are filled with intense anxiety. 



4f2 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Soon our boats reach the swift current; a 
stroke or two, now on this side, now on that, 
and we thread the narrow passage with ex- 
hilarating velocity, mounting the high waves, 
whose foaming crests dash over us, and 
plunging into the troughs, until we reach 
the quiet water below ; and then comes a feel- 
ing of great relief. Our first rapid is run. 
Another mile, and we come into the valley 
again. 

Let me explain this canon. Wliere the 
river turns to the left above, it takes a course 
directly into the mountain, penetrating to 
its very heart, then wheels back upon itself, 
and runs out into the valley from which it 
started only half a mile below the point at 
which it entered ; so the canon is in the form 
of an elongated letter U, with the apex in 
the center of the mountain. We name it 
Horseshoe Canon. 

Soon we leave the valley, and enter an- 
other short canon, very narrow at first, but 
widening below as the canon walls increase 
in height. Here we discover the mouth of 



FLAMING GORGE 43 

a beautiful little creek, coming down through 
its narrow water worn cleft. Just at its en- 
trance there is a park of two or three hun- 
dred acres, walled on every side by almost 
vertical cliffs, hundreds of feet in altitude, 
with three gateways through the walls — one 
up, another down the river, and a third pas- 
sage through which the creek comes in. The 
river is broad, deep, and quiet, and its waters 
mirror towering rocks. 

Kingfishers are playing about the 
streams, and so we adopt as names King- 
fisher Creek, Kingfisher Park, and King- 
fisher Canon, At night, we camp at the foot 
of this canon. 

Our general course this day has been south, 
but here the river turns to the east around 
a point which is rounded to the shape of a 
dome, and on its sides little cells have been 
carved by the action of the water; and in 
these pits, which cover the face of the dome, 
hundreds of swallows have built their nests. 
As they flit about the cliffs, they look like 
swarms of bees, giving to the whole the ap- 



44 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

pearance of a colossal beehive of the old time 
form, and so we name it Beehive Point. 

The opposite wall is a vast amphitheater, 
rising in a succession of terraces to a height 
of 1,200 or 1,500 feet. Each step is built 
of red sandstone, with a face of naked, red 
rock, and a glacis clothed with verdure. So 
the amphitheater seems banded red and 
green, and the evening sun is playing with 
roseate flashes on the rocks, with shimmering 
green on the cedars' spray, and iridescent 
gleams on the dancing waves. The land- 
scape revels in the sunshine. 

May 31. — We start down another canon, 
and reach rapids made dangerous by high 
rocks lying in the channel ; so we run ashore, 
and let our boats down with lines. In the 
afternoon we come to more dangerous rap- 
ids, and stop to examine them. I find we 
must do the same work again, but, being 
on the wrong side of the river to obtain a 
foothold, must first cross over — no very easy 
matter in such a current, with rapids and 
rocks below. We take the pioneer boat 



FLAMING GORGE 45 

Emma Dean over, and unload her on the 
bank; then she returns and takes another 
load. Running back and forth, she soon has 
half our cargo over; then one of the larger 
boats is manned and taken across, but car- 
ried down almost to the rocks in spite of 
hard rowing. The other boats follow and 
make the landing, and we go into camp for 
the night. 

At the foot of the cliff on this side, there 
is a long slope covered with pines; under 
these we make our beds, and soon after sun- 
set are seeking rest and sleep. The cliffs on 
either side are of red sandstone, and stretch 
up toward the heavens 2,500 feet. On this 
side, the long, pine clad slope is surmounted 
by perpendicular cliffs, with pines on their 
summits. The wall on the other side is bare 
rock from the water's edge up 2,000 feet, 
then slopes back, giving footing to pines and 
cedars. 

As the twilight deepens, the rocks grow 
dark and somber; the threatening roar of 
the water is loud and constant, and I lie 



46 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

awake with thoughts of the morrow and the 
canons to come, interrupted now and then 
by characteristics of the scenery that attract 
my attention. And here I make a discov- 
ery. On looking at the mountain directly 
in front, the steepness of the slope is greatly 
exaggerated, while the distance to its sum- 
mit and its true altitude are correspondingly 
diminished. I have heretofore found that 
to properly judge of the slope of a mountain 
side, you must see it in profile. In coming 
down the river this afternoon, I observed 
the slope of a particular part of the wall, 
and made an estimate of its altitude. While 
at supper, I noticed the same cliff from a 
position facing it, and it seemed steeper, but 
not half as high. Now lying on my side and 
looking at it, the true proportions appear. 
This seems a wonder, and I rise up to take 
a view of it standing. It is the same chff 
as at supper time. Lying down again, it 
is the cliff as seen in profile, with a long slope 
and distant summit. Musing on this, I for- 
get "the morrow and the canons to come." 



FLAMING GORGE 47 

I find a way to estimate the altitude and 
slope of an inclination as I can judge of 
distance along the horizon. The reason is 
simple. A reference to the stereoscope will 
suggest it. The distance between the eyes 
forms a base-line for optical triangulation. 

June 1. — To-day we have an exciting 
ride. The river rolls down the canon at a 
wonderful rate, and, with no rocks in the 
way, we make almost railroad speed. Here 
and there the water rushes into a narrow 
gorge; the rocks on the side roll it into the 
center in great waves, and the boats go leap- 
ing and bounding over these like things of 
life. They remind me of scenes witnessed 
in Middle Park; herds of startled deer 
bounding through forests beset with fallen 
timber. I mention the resemblance to some 
of the hunters, and so striking is it that it 
comes to be a common expression, "See the 
black-tails jumping the logs." At times the 
waves break and roll over the boats, which 
necessitates much bailing, and obliges us to 
stop occasionally for that purpose. At one 



48 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

time, we run twelve miles an hour, stoppages 
included. 

Last spring, I had a conversation with 
an old Indian named Pa'-ri-ats, who told me 
about one of his tribe attempting to run 
this canon. "The rocks," he said, holding 
his hands above his head, his arms vertical, 
and looking between them to the heavens, 
"the rocks h-e-a-p, h-e-a-p high; the water 
go h-oo-woogh, h-oo-woogh; water-pony 
(boat) h-e-a-p buck; water catch 'em; no 
see 'em Injun any more! no see 'em squaw 
any more! no see 'em pappoose any more!" 

Those who have seen these wild Indian 
ponies rearing alternately before and behind, 
or "bucking," as it is called In the vernacu- 
lar, will appreciate his description. 

At last we come to calm water, and a 
threatening roar is heard in the distance. 
Slowly approaching the point whence the 
sound issues, we come near to falls, and tie 
up just above them on the left. Here we 
will be compelled to make a portage ; so we 
unload the boats, and fasten a long line to 



FLAMING GORGE 49 

the bow, and another to the stern, of the 
smaller one, and moor her close to the brink 
of the fall. Then the bow-line is taken be- 
low, and made fast; the stern-line is held 
by five or six men, and the boat let down 
as long as they can hold her against the 
rushing waters; then, letting go one end of 
the line, it runs through the ring; the boat 
leaps over the fall, and is caught by the lower 
rope. 

Now we rest for the night. 

June 2. — This morning we make a trail 
among the rocks, transport the cargoes to a 
point below the falls, let the remaining boats 
over, and are ready to start before noon. 

On a high rock by which the trail passes 
we find the inscription: "Ashley 18-5." 
The third figure is obscure — some of the 
party reading it 1835, some 1855.* 

James Baker, an old time mountaineer, 
once told me about a party of men starting 

* General Ashley, the fur trader, made his last journey 
into the Far West before 1835. The man here mentioned 
must have been someone else, of the same family name. 
{Ed.) 



50 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

down the river, and Ashley was named as 
one. The story runs that the boat was 
swamped, and some of the party drowned 
in one of the canons below. The word 
"Ashley" is a warning to us, and we resolve 
on great caution. 

Ashley Falls is the name we give to the 
cataract. 

The river is very narrow; the right wall 
vertical for two or three hundred feet, the 
left towering to a great height, with a vast 
pile of broken rocks lying between the foot 
of the cliff and the water. Some of the 
rocks broken down from the ledge above 
have tumbled into the channel and caused 
this fall. One great cubical block, thirty 
or forty feet high, stands in the middle of 
the stream, and the waters, parting to either 
side, plunge down about twelve feet, and are 
broken again by the smaller rocks into a 
rapid below. Immediately below the falls, 
the water occupies the entire channel, there 
being no talus at the foot of the cliffs. 



FLAMING GORGE 51 

We embark, and run down a short dis- 
tance, where we find a landing-place for din- 
ner. 

On the waves again all the afternoon. 
Near the lower end of this canon, to which 
we have given the name Red Canon, is a 
little park, where streams come down from 
distant mountain summits, and enter the 
river on either side; and here we camp for 
the night under two stately pines. 

June 3. — This morning we spread our ra- 
tions, clothes, &c., on the ground to dry, and 
several of the party go out for a hunt. I 
take a walk of five or six miles up to a pine 
grove park, its grassy carpet bedecked with 
crimson, velvet flowers, set in groups on the 
stems of pear shaped cactus plants ; patches 
of painted cups are seen here and there, with 
yellow blossoms protruding through scarlet 
bracts; little blue-eyed flowers are peeping 
through the grass; and the air is filled with 
fragrance from the white blossoms of a 
Spircea. A mountain brook runs through 



52 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

the midst, ponded below by beaver dams. 
It is a quiet place for retirement from the 
raging waters of the canon. 

It will be remembered that the course of 
the river, from Flaming Gorge to Beehive 
Point, is in a southerly direction, and at right 
angles to the Uinta Mountains, and cuts 
into the range until it reaches a point within 
Gye miles of the crest, where it turns to the 
east, and pursues a course not quite parallel 
to the trend of the range, but crosses the 
axis slowly in a direction a little south of 
east. Thus there is a triangular tract be- 
tween the river and the axis of the moun- 
tain, with its acute angle extending east- 
ward. I climb a mountain overlooking this 
country. To the east, the peaks are not 
very high, and abeady most of the snow has 
melted; but little patches lie here and there 
under the lee of ledges of rock. To the west, 
the peaks grow higher and the snov/ fields 
larger. Between the brink of the canon and 
the foot of these peaks, there is a high bench. 
A number of creeks have their sources in 



FLAMING GORGE 53 

the snow banks to the south, and run north 
into the canon, tumbling down from 3,000 
to 5,000 feet in a distance of five or six mileSo 
Along their upper courses, they run through 
grassy valleys; but, as they approach Red 
Canon, they rapidly disappear under the 
general surface of the country, and emerge 
into the canon below in deep, dark gorges 
of their own. Each of these short lateral 
canons is marked by a succession of cascades 
and a wild confusion of rocks and trees and 
fallen timber and thick undergrowth. 

The httle valleys above are beautiful 
parks; between the parks are stately pine 
forests, half hiding ledges of red sandstone. 
Mule-deer and elk abound ; grizzly bears, too, 
are abundant; wild cats, wolverines, and 
mountain lions are here at home. The for- 
est aisles are filled with the music of birds, 
and the parks are decked with flowers. 
Noisy brooks meander through them ; ledges 
of moss-covered rocks are seen; and gleam- 
ing in the distance are the snow fields, and 
the mountain tops are away in the clouds. 



54* FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

June 4. — ^We start early and run through 
to Brown's Park. Half way down the val- 
ley, a spur of a red mountain stretches across 
the river, which cuts a caiion through it. 
Here the walls are comparatively low, but 
vertical. A vast number of swallows have 
built their adobe houses on the face of the 
cliffs, on either side of the river. The waters 
are deep and quiet, but the swallows are 
swift and noisy enough, sweeping by in their 
curved paths through the air, or chattering 
from the rocks. The young birds stretch 
their little heads on naked necks through the 
doorways of their mud houses, clamoring for 
food. They are a noisy people. 

We call this Swallow Canon. 

Still down the river we glide, until an early 
hour in the afternoon, when we go into camp 
under a giant cottonwood, standing on the 
right bank, a little way back from the stream. 
The party had succeeded in killing a fine lot 
of wild ducks, and during the afternoon a 
mess of fish is taken. 



FLAMING GORGE 55 

June 5. — With one of the men, I chmb 
a mountain, off on the right. A long spur, 
with broken ledges of rocks, puts down to 
the river; and along its course, or up the 
"hog-back," as it is called, I make the ascent. 
Dunn, who is climbing to the same point, is 
coming up the gulch. Two hours' hard 
work has brought us to the summit. These 
mountains are all verdure clad ; pine and ce- 
dar forests are set on green terraces; snow 
clad mountains are seen in the distance, to the 
west; the plains of the upper Breen stretch 
out before us, to the north, until they are lost 
in the blue heavens ; but half of the river cleft 
range intervenes, and the river itself is at 
our feet. 

This half range, beyond the river, is com- 
posed of long ridges, nearly parallel with 
the valley. On the farther ridge, to the 
north, four creeks have their sources. These 
cut through the intervening ridges, one of 
which is much higher than that on which 
they head, by canon gorges; then they run, 



56 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

with gentle curves, across the valley, their 
banks set with willows, box-elders, and Cot- 
tonwood groves. 

To the east, we look up the valley of the 
[Vermihon, through which Fremont found 
his path on his way to the great parks of 
Colorado. 

The reading of the barometer taken, we 
start down in company, and reach camp tired 
and hungry, which does not abate one bit our 
enthusiasm, as we tell of the day's work, 
with its glory of landscape. 

June 6. — At daybreak, I am awakened 
by a chorus of birds. It seems as if all the 
feathered songsters of the region have come 
to the old tree. Several species of warblers, 
woodpeckers, and flickers above, meadow- 
larks in the grass, and wild geese in the river. 
I recline on my elbow, and watch a lark near 
by, and then awaken my bed fellow, to listen 
to my Jenny Lind. A morning concert for 
me ; none of your "matinees.'' 

Our cook has been an ox-driver, or "bull- 
whacker," on the plains, in one of those long 



FLAMING GORGE 57 

trains now no longer seen, and he hasn't 
forgotten his old ways. In the midst of the 
concert, his voice breaks in: "Roll out! roll 
out! bulls in the corral! chain up the gaps! 
Roll out ! roll out ! roll out !" And this is our 
breakfast bell. 

To-day we pass through the park, and 
camp at the head of another canon. 

June 7. — To-day, two or three of us climb 
to the summit of the cliff, on the left, and 
find its altitude, above camp, to be 2,086 
feet. The rocks are split with fissures, deep 
and narrow, sometimes a hundred feet, or 
more, to the bottom. Lofty pines find root 
in the fissures that are filled with loose earth 
and decayed vegetation. On a rock we find 
a pool of clear, cold water, caught from yes- 
terday evening's shower. After a good 
drink, we walk out to the brink of the canon, 
and look down to the water below. I can 
do this now, but it has taken several years 
of mountain climbing to cool my nerves, so 
that I can sit, with my feet over the edge, 
and calmly look down a precipice 2,000 feet, 



58 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

And yet I cannot look on and see another 
do the same. I must either bid him come 
away, or turn my head. 

The canon walls are buttressed on a grand 
scale, with deep alcoves intervening; col- 
umned crags crown the cliffs, and the river 
is rolling below. 

When we return to camp, at noon, the 
sun shines in splendor on vermilion walls, 
shaded into green and gray, where the rocks 
are lichened over; the river fills the channel 
from wall to wall, and the canon opens, like 
a beautiful portal, to a region of glory. 

This evening, as I write, the sun is going 
down, and the shadows are settling in the 
canon. The vermilion gleams and roseate 
hues, blending with the green and gray tints, 
are slowly changing to somber brown above, 
and black shadows are creeping over them 
below ; and now it is a dark portal to a region 
of gloom — the gateway through which we 
are to enter on our voyage of exploration to- 
morrow. What shall we find? 

The distance from Flaming Gorge to 



FLAMING GORGE 59 

Beehive Point is nine and two-thirds miles. 
Besides, passing through the gorge, the river 
runs through Horseshoe and Kingfisher 
Canons, separated by short valleys. The 
highest point on the walls, at Flaming 
Gorge, is 1,300 feet above the river. The 
east wall, at the apex of Horseshoe Canon, 
is about 1,600 feet above the water's edge, 
and, from this point, the walls slope both to 
the head and foot of the canon. 

Kingfisher Canon, starting at the water's 
edge above, steadily increases in altitude to 
1,200 feet at the foot. 

Red Canon is twenty-five and two-thirds 
miles long, and the highest walls are about 
2,500 feet. 

Brown's Park is a valley, bounded on 
either side by a mountain range, really an 
expansion of the canon. The river, through 
the park, is thirty-five and a half miles long, 
but passes through two short canons, on its 
way, where spurs, from the mountains on the 
south, are thrust across its course. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE CANYON OF LODORE 

JUNE 8. — We enter the canon, and, 
until noon, find a succession of rap- 
ids, over which our boats have to be 
taken. 

Here I must explain our method of pro- 
ceeding at such places. The Emma Dean 
goes in advance; the other boats follow, in 
obedience to signals. When we approach 
a rapid, or what, on other rivers, would often 
be called a fall, I stand on deck to examine 
it, while the oarsmen back water, and we 
drift on as slowly as possible. If I can see 
a clear chute between the rocks, away we 
go ; but if the channel is beset entirely across, 
we signal the other boats, pull to land, and 
I walk along the shore for closer examina- 
tion. If this reveals no clear channel, hard 

60 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 61 

work begins. We drop the boats to the 
very head of the dangerous place, and let 
them over by lines, or make a portage, fre- 
quently carrying both boats and cargoes over 
the rocks, or, perhaps, only the cargoes, if 
it is safe to let the boats down. 

The waves caused by such falls in a river 
differ much from the waves of the sea. The 
water of an ocean wave merely rises and 
falls; the form only passes on, and form 
chases form unceasingly. A body floating 
on such waves merely rises and sinks — does 
not progress unless impelled by wind or some 
other power. But here, the water of the 
wave passes on, while the form remains. 
The waters plunge down ten or twenty feet, 
to the foot of a fall; spring up again in a 
great wave; then down and up, in a series 
of billows, that gradually disappear in the 
more quiet waters below; but these waves 
are always there, and you can stand above 
and count them. 

A boat riding such, leaps and plunges 
along with great velocity. Now, the diffi- 



6^ FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

culty in riding over these falls, when the 
rocks are out of the way, is in the first wave 
at the foot. This will sometimes gather for 
a moment, heaping up higher and higher, 
until it breaks back. If the boat strikes it 
the instant after it breaks, she cuts through, 
and the mad breaker dashes its spray over 
the boat, and would wash us overboard did 
we not cling tight. If the boat, in going 
over the falls, chances to get caught in some 
side current, and is turned from its course, 
so as to strike the wave "broadside on," and 
the wave breaks at the same instant, the boat 
is capsized. Still, we must cling to her, for, 
the water tight compartments acting as 
buoys, she cannot sink; and so we go, 
dragged through the waves, until still waters 
are reached. We then right the boat, and 
climb aboard. We have several such experi- 
ences to-day. 

At night, we camp on the right bank, on 
a little shelving rock, between the river and 
the foot of the cliff; and with night comes 
gloom into these great depths. 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 63 

After supper, we sit by our camp fire, 
made of drift wood caught by the rocks, and 
tell stories of wild life; for the men have 
seen such in the mountains, or on the plains, 
and on the battle fields of the South. It is 
late before we spread our blankets on the 
beach. 

Lying down, we look up through the 
canon, and see that only a little of the blue 
heaven appears overhead — a crescent of blue 
sky, with two or three constellations peering 
down upon us. 

I do not sleep for some time, as the ex- 
citement of the day has not worn off. Soon 
I see a bright star, that appears to rest on 
the very verge of the cliff overhead to the 
east. Slowly it seems to float from its rest- 
ing place on the rock over the canon. At 
first, it appears like a jewel set on the brink 
of the cliff; but, as it moves out from the 
rock, I almost wonder that it does not fall. 
In fact, it does seem to descend in a gentle 
curve, as though the bright sky in which the 
stars are set was spread across the canon, 



64 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

resting on either wall, and swayed down by 
its own weight. The stars appear to be in 
the canon. I soon discover that it is the 
bright star Vega, so it occurs to me to desig- 
nate this part of the wall as the "Cliff of the 
Harp." 

June 9. — One of the party suggests that 
we call this the Canon of Lodore, and the 
name is adopted. Very slowly we make our 
way, often climbing on the rocks at the edge 
of the water for a few hundred yards, to 
examine the channel before running it. 

During the afternoon, we come to a place 
where it is necessary to make a portage. The 
little boat is landed, and the others are sig- 
naled to come up. 

When these rapids or broken falls occur, 
usually the channel is suddenly narrowed by 
rocks which have been tumbled from the 
cliffs or have been washed in by lateral 
streams. Immediately above the narrow, 
rocky channel, on one or both sides, there is 
often a bay of quiet water, in which we can 
land with ease. Sometimes the water de- 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 65 

scends with a smooth, unruffled surface, 
from the broad, quiet spread above, into the 
narrow, angry channel below, by a semicir- 
cular sag. Great care must be taken not 
to pass over the brink into this deceptive 
pit, but above it we can row with safety. I 
walk along the bank to examine the ground, 
leaving one of my men with a flag to guide 
the other boats to the landing-place. I soon 
see one of the boats make shore all right and 
feel no more concern; but a minute after, 
I hear a shout, and looking around, see one 
of the boats shooting down the center of the 
sag. It is the No Name, with Captain How- 
land, his brother, and Goodman. I feel 
that its going over is inevitable, and run to 
save the third boat. A minute more, and 
she turns the point and heads for the shore. 
Then I turn down stream again, and scram- 
ble along to look for the boat that has gone 
over. The first fall is not great, only ten 
or twelve feet, and we often run such; but 
below, the river tumbles down again for forty 
or fifty feet, in a channel filled with danger- 



66 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ous rocks that break the waves into whirl- 
pools and beat them into foam. I pass 
around a great crag just in time to see the 
boat strike a rock, and, rebounding from the 
shock, careen and fill the open compartment 
with water. Two of the men lose their oars ; 
she swings around, and is carried down at 
a rapid rate, broadside on, for a few yards, 
and strikes amidships on another rock with 
great force, is broken quite in two, and the 
men are thrown into the river; the larger 
part of the boat floating buoyantly, they 
soon seize it, and down the river they drift, 
past the rocks for a few hundred yards to a 
second rapid, filled with huge boulders, where 
the boat strikes again, and is dashed to pieces, 
and the men and fragments are soon carried 
beyond my sight. Running along, I turn 
a bend, and see a man's head above the water, 
washed about in a whirlpool below a great 
rock. 

It is Frank Goodman, clinging to it with 
a grip upon which life depends. Coming 
opposite, I see Howland trying to go to his 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 67 

aid from an island on which he has been 
washed. Soon, he comes near enough to 
reach Frank with a pole, which he extends 
toward him. The latter lets go the rock, 
grasps the pole, and is pulled ashore. Sen- 
eca Howland is washed farther down the 
island, and is caught by some rocks, and, 
though somewhat bruised, manages to get 
ashore in safety. This seems a long time, 
as I tell it, but it is quickly done. 

And now the three men are on an island, 
with a swift, dangerous river on either side, 
and a fall below. The Emma Dean is soon 
brought down, and Sumner, starting above 
as far as possible, pushes out. Right skill- 
fully he plies the oars, and a few strokes set 
him on the island at the proper point. Then 
they all pull the boat up stream, as far as 
they are able, until they stand in water up 
to their necks. One sits on a rock, and holds 
the boat until the others are ready to pull, 
then gives the boat a push, clings to it with 
his hands, and climbs in as they pull for 
mainland, which they reach in safety. We 



68 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

are as glad to shake hands with them as 
though they had been on a voyage around 
the world, and wrecked on a distant coast. 

Down the river half a mile we find that 
the after cabin of the wrecked boat, with a 
part of the bottom, ragged and splintered, 
has floated against a rock, and stranded. 
There are valuable articles in the cabin ; but, 
on examination, we determine that life 
should not be risked to save them. Of 
course, the cargo of rations, instruments, and 
clothing is gone. 

We return to the boats, and make camp 
for the night. No sleep comes to me in all 
those dark hours. The rations, instruments, 
and clothing have been divided among the 
boats, anticipating such an accident as this; 
and we started with duplicates of everything 
that was deemed necessary to success. But, 
in the distribution, there was one exception 
to this precaution, and the barometers were 
all placed in one boat, and they are lost. 
There is a possibility that they are in the 
cabin lodged against the rock, for that is 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 69 

where they were kept. But, then, how to 
reach them ! The river is rising. Will they 
be there to-morrow? Can I go out to Salt 
Lake City, and obtain barometers from New 
York? 

June 10. — I have determined to get the 
barometers from the wreck, if they are there. 
After breakfast, while the men make the 
portage, I go down again for another ex- 
amination. There the cabin lies, only car- 
ried fifty or sixty feet farther on. 

Carefully looking over the ground, I am 
satisfied that it can be reached with safety, 
and return to tell the men my conclusion. 
Sumner and Dunn volunteer to take the lit- 
tle boat and make the attempt. They start, 
reach it, and out come the barometers; and 
now the boys set up a shout, and I join them, 
pleased that they should be as glad to save 
the instruments as myself. When the boat 
lands on our side, I find that the only things 
saved from the wreck were the barometers, 
a package of thermometers, and a three gal- 
lon keg of whisky, which is what the men 



70 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

were shouting about. They had taken it 
aboard, unknown to me, and now I am glad 
they did, for they think it will do them good, 
as they are drenched every day by the melt- 
ing snow, which runs down the summits of 
the Rocky Mountains. 

Now we come back to our work at the 
portage. We find that it is necessary to 
carry our rations over the rocks for nearly 
a mile, and let our boats down with lines, ex- 
cept at a few points, where they also must be 
carried. 

Between the river and the eastern wall 
of the canon there is an immense talus of 
broken rocks. These have tumbled down 
from the cliffs above, and constitute a vast 
pile of huge angular fragments. On these 
we build a path for a quarter of a mile, to a 
small sand beach covered with drift-wood, 
through which we clear a way for several 
hundred yards, then continue the trail on 
over another pile of rocks, nearly half a mile 
farther down, to a little bay. The greater 
part of the day is spent in this work. Then 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 71 

we carry our cargoes down to the beach and 
camp for the night. 

While the men are building the camp fire, 
we discover an iron bake oven, several tin 
plates, a part of a boat, and many other 
fragments, which denote that this is the place 
where Ashley's party was wrecked. 

June 11. — This day is spent in carrying 
our rations down to the bay — no small task 
to climb over the rocks with sacks of flour 
or bacon. We carry them by stages of 
about 500 yards each, and when night comes, 
and the last sack is on the beach, we are tired, 
bruised, and glad to sleep. 

June 12. — To-day we take the boats down 
to the bay. While at this work, we discover 
three sacks of flour from the wrecked boat, 
that have lodged in the rocks. We carry 
them above high-water mark, and leave them, 
as our cargoes are already too heavy for the 
three remaining boats. We also find two 
or three oars, which we place with them. 

As Ashley and his party were wrecked 
here, and as we have lost one of our boats at 



7a FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

the same place, we adopt the name Disaster 
Falls for the scene of so much peril and loss. 
Though some of his companions were 
drowned, Ashley and one other survived the 
wreck, climbed the canon wall, and found 
their way across the Wasatch Mountains to 
Salt Lake City, living chiefly on berries, as 
they wandered through an unknown and dif- 
ficult country. When they arrived at Salt 
Lake, they were almost destitute of cloth- 
ing, and nearly starved. The Mormon peo- 
ple gave them food and clothing, and em- 
ployed them to work on the foundation of the 
Temple, until they had earned sufficient to 
enable them to leave the country. Of their 
subsequent history, I have no knowledge. 
It is possible they returned to the scene of 
the disaster, as a little creek entering the 
river below is known as Ashley's Creek, and 
it is reported that he built a cabin and 
trapped on this river for one or two win- 
ters ; but this may have been before the dis- 
aster. 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 73 

June 13. — Still rocks, rapids, and por- 
tages. 

We camp to-night at the foot of the left 
wall on a little patch of flood-plain covered 
with a dense growth of box-elders, stopping 
early in order to spread the clothing and 
rations to dry. Everything is wet and 
spoiling. 

June 14. — Howland and I climb the wall, 
on the west side of the canon, to an altitude 
of 2,000 feet. Standing above, and look- 
ing to the west, we discover a large park, 
five or six miles wide and twenty or thirty 
long. The cliff we have climbed forms a 
wall between the canon and the park, for 
it is 800 feet, down the western side, to the 
valley. A creek comes winding down, 1,200 
feet above the river, and, entering the inter- 
vening wall by a canon, it plunges down, 
more than a thousand feet, by a broken cas- 
cade, into the river below. 

June 15. — To-day, while we make an- 
other portage, a peak, standing on the east 



74 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

wall, is climbed by two of the men, and 
found to be 2,700 feet above the river. On 
the east side of the canon, a vast amphithe- 
ater has been cut, with massive buttresses, 
and deep, dark alcoves, in which grow beau- 
tiful mosses and delicate ferns, while springs 
burst out from the further recesses, and 
wind, in silver threads, over floors of sand 
rock. Here we have three falls in close 
succession. At the first, the water is com- 
pressed into a very narrow channel, against 
the right-hand cliff, and falls fifteen feet 
in ten yards ; at the second, we have a broad 
sheet of water, tumbling down twenty feet 
over a group of rocks that thrust their dark 
heads through the foaming waters. The 
third is a broken fall, or short, abrupt rapid, 
where the water makes a descent of more 
than twenty feet among huge, fallen frag- 
ments of the cliff. We name the group 
Triplet Falls. 

We make a portage around the first ; past 
the second and third we let down with lines. 

During the afternoon, Dunn and How- 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 75 

land, having returned from their dimb, we 
run down, three-quarters of a mile, on quiet 
water, and land at the head of another fall. 
On examination, we find that there is an 
abrupt plunge of a few feet, and then the 
river tumbles, for half a mile, with a descent 
of a hundred feet, in a channel beset with 
great numbers of huge boulders. This 
stretch of the river is named Hell's Half- 
Mile. 

The remaining portion of the day is oc- 
cupied in making a trail among the rocks to 
the foot of the rapid. 

June 16. — Our first work this morning 
is to carry our cargoes to the foot of the 
falls. Then we commence letting down the 
boats. We take two of them down in 
safety, but not without great difficulty; for, 
where such a vast body of water, rolling 
down an inclined plane, is broken into ed- 
dies and cross currents by rocks projecting 
from the cliffs and piles of boulders in the 
channel, it requires excessive labor and much 
care to prevent their being dashed against 



76 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

the rocks or breaking away. Sometimes we 
are compelled to hold the boat against a 
rock, above a chute, until a second Une, at- 
tached to the stem, is carried to some point 
below, and, when all is ready, the first line 
is detached, and the boat given to the cur- 
rent, when she shoots down, and the men be- 
low swing her into some eddy. 

At such a place, we are letting down the 
last boat, and, as she is set free, a wave 
turns her broadside down the stream, with 
the stem, to which the line is attached, from 
shore, and a little up. They haul on the 
line to bring the boat in, but the power of 
the current, striking obliquely against her, 
shoots her out into the middle of the river. 
The men have their hands burned with the 
friction of the passing line; the boat breaks 
away, and speeds, with great velocity, down 
the stream. 

The Maid of the Canon is lost, so it 
seems; but she drifts some distance, and 
swings into an eddy, in which she spins 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 77 

about, until we arrive with the small boat, 
and rescue her. 

Soon we are on our way again, and stop 
at the mouth of a little brook, on the right, 
for a late dinner. This brook comes down 
from the distant mountains, in a deep side 
canon. We set out to explore it, but are 
soon cut off from farther progress up the 
gorge by a high rock, over which the brook 
ghdes in a smooth sheet. The rock is not 
quite vertical, and the water does not plunge 
over in a fall. 

Then we climb up to the left for an hour, 
and are a thousand feet above the river, and 
six hundred above the brook. Just before 
us, the canon divides, a little stream coming 
down on the right, and another on the left, 
and we can look away up either of these can- 
ons, through an ascending vista, to chif s and 
crags and towers, a mile back, and two thou- 
sand feet overhead. To the right, a dozen 
gleaming cascades are seen. Pines and firs 
stand on the rocks and aspens overhang the 



78 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

brooks. The rocks below are red and 
brown, set in deep shadows, but above, they 
are buff and vermihon, and stand in the 
sunshine. The light above, made more bril- 
liant by the bright-tinted rocks, and the 
shadows below more gloomy by the somber 
hues of the brown walls, increase the ap- 
parent depths of the canons, and it seems a 
long way up to the world of sunshine and 
open sky, and a long way down to the bot- 
tom of the canon glooms. Never before 
have I received such an impression of the 
vast heights of these canon walls; not even 
at the Cliff of the Harp, where the very 
heavens seemed to rest on their summits. 

We sit on some overhanging rocks, and 
enjoy the scene for a time, listening to the 
music of falling waters away up the canons. 
We name this Rippling Brook. 

Late in the afternoon we make a short 
run to the mouth of another little creek, 
coming down from the left into an alcove 
filled with luxuriant vegetation. Here 
camp is made with a group of cedars on one 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 79 

side and a dense mass of box-elders and dead 
willows on the other. 

I go up to explore the alcove. While 
away a whirlwind comes, scattering the fire 
among the dead willows and cedar-spray, 
and soon there is a conflagration. The 
men rush for the boats, leaving all they can- 
not readily seize at the moment, and even 
then they have their clothing burned and 
hair singed, and Bradley has his ears 
scorched. The cook fills his arms with the 
mess-kit, and, jumping into a boat, stum- 
bles and falls, and away go our cooking 
utensils into the river. Our plates are gone ; 
our spoons are gone; our knives and forks 
are gone. "Water catch 'em; h-e-a-p catch 
'em." 

When on the boats, the men are compelled 
to cut loose, as the flames, running out on 
the overhanging willows, are scorching 
them. Loose on the stream, they must go 
down, for the water is too swift to make 
headway against it. Just below is a rapid, 
filled with rocks. On they shoot, no chan- 



80 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

nel explored, no signal to guide them. Just 
at this juncture I chance to see them, but 
have not yet discovered the fire, and the 
strange movements of the men fill me with 
astonishment. Down the rocks I clamber, 
and run to the bank. When I arrive, they 
have landed. Then we all go back to the 
late camp to see if anything left behind can 
be saved. Some of the clothing and bed- 
ding taken out of the boats is found, also 
a few tin cups, basins, and a camp kettle, 
and this is all the mess kit we now have. 
Yet we do just as well as ever. 

June 17. — We run down to the mouth 
of Yampa River. This has been a chapter 
of disasters and toils, notwithstanding 
which the Canon of Lodore was not devoid 
of scenic interest, even beyond the power 
of pen to tell. The roar of its waters was 
heard unceasingly from the hour we entered 
it until we landed here. No quiet in all 
that time. But its walls and cliffs, its peaks 
and crags, its amphitheaters and alcoves, tell 



THE CANYON OF LODORE 81 

a story of beauty and grandeur that I hear 
yet — and shall hear. 

The Canon of Lodore is twenty and three- 
quarter miles in length. It starts abruptly 
at what we have called the Gate of Lodore, 
with walls nearly two thousand feet high, and 
they are never lower than this until we reach 
Alcove Brook, about three miles above the 
foot. They are very irregular, standing in 
vertical or overhanging cliffs in places, ter- 
raced in others, or receding in steep slopes, 
and are broken by many side gulches 
and canons. The highest point on the wall 
is at Dunn's Cliff, near Triplet Falls, 
where the rocks reach an altitude of 2,700 
feet, but the peaks a little way back rise 
nearly a thousand feet higher. Yellow 
pines, nut pines, firs, and cedars stand in 
extensive forests on the Uinta Mountains, 
and, clinging to the rocks and growing in 
the crevices, come down the walls to the 
water's edge from Flaming Gorge to Echo 



82 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Park. The red sandstones are lichened 
over; delicate mosses grow in the moist 
places, and ferns festoon the walls. 



CHAPTER V 

FROM ECHO PARK TO THE MOUTH OF THE 
UINTA RIVER 

THE Yampa enters the Green from 
the east. At a point opposite its 
mouth, the Green runs to the south, 
at the foot of a rock, about seven hun- 
dred feet high and a mile long, and then 
turns sharply around it to the right, and 
runs back in a northerly course, parallel to 
its former direction, for nearly another mile, 
thus having the opposite sides of a long, 
narrow rock for its bank. The tongue of 
rock so formed is a peninsular precipice, 
with a mural escarpment along its whole 
course on the east, but broken down at 
places on the west. 

On the east side of the river, opposite the 
rock, and below the Yampa, there is a little 

83 



84 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

park, just large enough for a farm, already 
fenced with high walls of gray homogeneous 
standstone. There are three river en- 
trances to this park: one down the Yampa; 
one below, by coming up the Green; and 
another down the Green. There is also a 
land entrance down a lateral canon. Else- 
where the park is inaccessible. Through this 
land-entrance by the side canon there is a 
trail made by Indian hunters, who come 
down here in certain seasons to kill moun- 
tain sheep. 

Great hollow domes are seen in the east- 
ern side of the rock, against which the Green 
sweeps; willows border the river; clumps of 
box-elder are seen; and a few cottonwoods 
stand at the lower end. Standing opposite 
the rock, our words are repeated with start- 
ling clearness, but in a soft, mellow tone, 
that transforms them into magical music. 
Scarcely can you believe it is the echo of 
your own voice. In some places two or 
three echoes come back ; in other places they 
repeat themselves, passing back and forth 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 85 

across the river between this rock and the 
eastern wall. 

To hear these repeated echoes well you 
must shout. Some of the party aver that 
ten or twelve repetitions can be heard. To 
me, they seem to rapidly diminish and merge 
by multiplicity, like telegraph poles on an 
outstretched plain. I have observed the 
same phenomenon once before in the cliffs 
near Long's Peak, and am pleased to meet 
with it again. 

During the afternoon, Bradley and I 
climb some cliffs to the north. JMountain 
sheep are seen above us, and they stand out 
on the rocks, and eye us intently, not seem- 
ing to move. Their color is much like that 
of the gray sandstone beneath them, and, 
immovable as they are, they appear like 
carved forms. Now a fine ram beats the 
rock with his front foot, and, wheeling 
around, they all bound away together, leap- 
ing over rocks and chasms, and climbing 
walls where no man can follow, and this 
with an ease and gracefulness most wonder- 



86 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ful. At night we return to our camp, un- 
der the box-elders, by the river side. Here 
we are to spend two or three days, making 
a series of astronomic observations for lati- 
tude and longitude. 

June 18. — We have named the long pe- 
ninsular rock on the other side Echo Rock. 
Desiring to climb it, Bradley and I take 
the little boat and pull up stream as far as 
possible, for it cannot be climbed directly 
opposite. We land on a talus of rocks at 
the upper end, to reach a place where it 
seems practicable to make the ascent; but 
we must go still farther up the river. So 
we scramble along, until we reach a place 
where the river sweeps against the wall. 
Here we find a shelf, along which we can 
pass, and now are ready for the climb. 

We start up a gulch; then pass to the 
left, on a bench, along the wall; then up 
again, over broken rocks; then we reach 
more benches, along which we walk, vmtil 
we find more broken rocks and crevices, by 
which we climb still up, until we have as- 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 87 

cended six or eight hundred feet; then we 
are met by a sheer precipice. 

Looking about, we find a place where it 
seems possible to climb. I go ahead ; Brad- 
ley hands the barometer to me, and follows. 
So we proceed, stage by stage, until we are 
nearly to the summit. Here, by making a 
spring, I gain a foothold in a little crevice, 
and grasp an angle of the rock overhead. 
I find I can get up no farther, and cannot 
step back, for I dare not let go with my 
hand, and cannot reach foot-hold below 
without.* I call to Bradley for help. He 
finds a way by which he can get to the top 
of the rock over my head, but cannot reach 
me. Then he looks around for some stick 
or limb of a tree, but finds none. Then 
he suggests that he had better help me with 
the barometer case ; but I fear I cannot hold 
on to it. The moment is critical. Stand- 
ing on my toes, my muscles begin to trem- 
ble. It is sixty or eighty feet to the foot 
of the precipice. If I lose my hold I shall 

* Major Powell had only one arm. (Ed.) 



88 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

fall to the bottom, and then perhaps roll 
over the bench, and tumble still farther 
down the cliff. At this instant it occurs to 
Bradley to take off his drawers, which he 
does, and swings them down to me. I hug 
close to the rock, let go with my hand, seize 
the dangling legs, and, with his assistance, 
I am enabled to gain the top. 

Then we walk out on a peninsular rock, 
make the necessary observations for deter- 
mining its altitude above camp, and return, 
finding an easy way down. 
Y June 19. — To-day, Howland, Bradley, 
and I take the Emma Dean, and start up 
the Yampa Biver. The stream is much 
swollen, the current swift, and we are able 
to make but slow progress against it. The 
canon in this part of the course of the 
Yampa is cut through light gray sandstone. 
The river is very winding, and the swifter 
water is usually found on the outside of the 
curve, sweeping against vertical cliffs, often 
a thousand feet high. In the center of 
these curves, in man}^ places, the rock above 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 89 

overhangs the river. On the opposite side, 
the walls are broken, craggy, and sloping, 
and occasionally side canons enter. When 
we have rowed until we are quite tired we 
stop, and take advantage of one of these 
broken places to climb out of the canon. 
When above, we can look up the Yampa for 
a distance of several miles. 

From the summit of the immediate walls 
of the canon the rocks rise gently back for a 
distance of a mile or two, having the appear- 
ance of a valley, with an irregular, rounded 
sandstone floor, and in the center of the val- 
ley a deep gorge, which is the canon. The 
rim of this valley on the north is from two 
thousand five hundred to three thousand feet 
above the river; on the south, it is not so 
high. A number of peaks stand on this 
northern rim, the highest of wliich has re- 
ceived the name Mount Dawes. 

Late in the afternoon we descend to our 
boat, and return to camp in Echo Park, glid- 
ing down in twenty minutes on the rapid 
river a distance of four or five miles, which 



90 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

was only made up stream by several hours' 
hard rowing in the morning. 

June 20. — This morning two of the men 
take me up the Yampa for a short distance, 
and I go out to climb. Having reached the 
top of the canon, I walk over long stretches 
of naked sandstone, crossing gulches now 
and then, and by noon reach the summit of 
Mount Dawes. From this point" I can look 
away to the north, and see in the dim distance 
the Sweetwater and Wind River Mountains, 
more than a hundred miles away. To the 
northwest, the Wasatch Mountains are in 
view and peaks of the Uinta. To the east, 
I can see the western slopes of the Rocky 
Mountains, more than a hundred and fifty 
miles distant. 

The air is singularly clear to-day; moun- 
tains and buttes stand in sharp outline, val- 
leys stretch out in the perspective, and I can 
look down into the deep canon gorges and see 
gleaming waters. 

Descending, I cross a ridge near the brink 
of the Canon of Lodore, the highest point of 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 91 

which is nearly as high as the last mentioned 
mountain. 

Late in the afternoon I stand on this ele- 
vated point, and discover a monument that 
has evidently been built by human hands. A 
few plants are growing in the joints between 
the rocks, and all are lichened over to a 
greater or less extent, showing evidences that 
the pile was built a long time ago. This line 
of peaks, the eastern extension of the Uinta 
Mountains, has received the name of Sierra 
Escalanti, in honor of a Spanish priest, who 
traveled in this region of country nearly a 
century ago; and, perchance, the reverend 
father built this monument. 

Now I return to the river and discharge 
my gun, as a signal for the boat to come and 
take me down to camp. Wliile we have been 
in the park, the men have succeeded in catch- 
ing quite a number of fish, and we have an 
abundant supply. This is quite an addition 
to our cuisine, 

June 21. — We float around the long rock, 
and enter another canon. The walls are 



9^ FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

high and vertical; the canon is narrow; and 
the river fills the whole space below, so that 
there is no landing-place at the foot of the 
cliff. The Green is greatly increased by the 
Yampa, and we now have a much larger 
river. All this volume of water, confined, 
as it is, in a narrow channel, and rushing with 
great velocity, is set eddying and spinning in 
whirlpools by projecting rocks and short 
curves, and the waters waltz their way 
through the canon, making their own rip- 
pling, rushing, roaring music. The canon is 
much narrower than any we have seen. 
With difficulty we manage our boats. They 
spin about from side to side, and we know 
not where we are going, and find it impossi- 
ble to keep them headed down the stream. 
At first, this causes us great alarm, but we 
soon find there is but little danger, and that 
there is a general movement of progression 
down the river, to which this whirling is but 
an adjunct; and it is the merry mood of the 
river to dance through this deep, dark gorge ; 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 93 

and right gaily do we join in the sport. 
Soon our revel is interrupted by a cata- 
ract; its roaring command is heeded by all 
our power at the oars, and we pull against 
the whirling current. The Emma Dean is 
brought up against a cliff, about fifty feet 
above the brink of the fall. By vigorously 
plying the oars on the side opposite the wall, 
as if to pull up stream, we can hold her 
against the rock. The boats behind are sig- 
naled to land where they can. The Maid of 
the Canon is pulled to the left wall, and, by 
constant rowing, they can hold her also. The 
Sister is run into an alcove on the right, 
where an eddy is in a dance, and in this she 
joins. Now my little boat is held against 
the wall only by the utmost exertion, and it is 
impossible to make headway against the cur- 
rent. On examination, I find a horizontal 
crevice in the rock, about ten feet above the 
water, and a boat's length below us, so we 
let her down to that point. One of the men 
clambers into the crevice, in which he can 



94 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

just crawl; we toss him the line, which he 
makes fast in the rocks, and now our boat is 
tied up. Then I follow into the crevice, and 
we crawl along a distance of fifty feet, or 
more, up stream, and find a broken place, 
where we can climb about fifty feet higher. 
Here we stand on a shelf, that passes along 
down stream to a point above the falls, 
where it is broken down, and a pile of rocks, 
over which we can descend to the river, is 
lying against the foot of the cliff. 

It has been mentioned that one of the 
boats is on the other side. I signal for the 
men to pull her up alongside of the wall, but 
it cannot be done; then to cross. This they 
do, gaining the wall on our side just above 
where the Emma Dean is tied. 

The third boat is out of sight, whirling in 
the eddy of a recess. Looking about, I find 
another horizontal crevice, along which I 
crawl to a point just over the water, where 
this boat is lying, and, calling loud and long, 
I finally succeed in making the crew under- 
stand that I want them to bring the boat 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 95 

dowii, hugging the waU. This they accom- 
pHsh, by taking advantage of every crevice 
and knob on the face of the chff , so that we 
have the three boats together at a point a 
few yards above the falls. Now, by pass- 
ing a line up on the shelf, the boats can be let 
down to the broken rocks below. This we 
do, and, making a short portage, our trou- 
bles here are over. 

Below the falls, the canon is wider, and 
there is more or less space between the river 
and the walls; but the stream, though wide, 
is rapid, and rolls at a fearful rate among 
the rocks. We proceed with great caution, 
and run the large boats altogether by sig- 
nal. 

At night we camp at the mouth of a small 
creek, which affords us a good supper of 
trout. In camp, to-night, we discuss the 
propriety of several different names for this 
canon. At the falls, encountered at noon, 
its characteristics change suddenly. Above, 
it is very narrow, and the walls are almost 
vertical; below, the canon is much wider, and 



96 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

more flaring; and, high up on the sides, 
crags, pinnacles, and towers are seen. A 
number of wild, narrow side canons enter, 
and the walls are much broken. After many 
suggestions, our choice rests between two 
names, Whirlpool Canon and Craggy 
Canon, neither of which is strictly appro- 
priate for both parts of it; but we leave the 
discussion at this point, with the understand- 
ing that it is best, before finally deciding on 
a name, to wait until we see what the canon 
is below. 

June 22. — Still making short portages 
and letting down with lines. While we are 
waiting for dinner to-day, I climb a point 
that gives me a good view of the river for 
two or three miles below, and I think we can 
make a long run. After dinner, we start; 
the large boats are to follow in fifteen min- 
utes, and look out for the signal to land. 
Into the middle of the stream we row, and 
down the rapid river we glide, only making 
strokes enough with the oars to guide the 
boat. What a headlong ride it is ! shooting 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 97 

past rocks and islands ! I am soon filled with 
exhilaration only experienced before in rid- 
ing a fleet horse over the outstretched 
prairie. One, two, three, four miles we go, 
rearing and plunging with the waves, until 
we wheel to the right into a beautiful park, 
and land on an island, where we go into 
camp. 

An hour or two before sunset, I cross to 
the mainland, and climb a point of rocks 
where I can overlook the park and its sur- 
roundings. On the east it is bounded by 
a high mountain ridge. A semicircle of 
naked hills bounds it on the north, west, and 
south. The broad, deep river meanders 
through the park, interrupted by many 
wooded islands; so I name it Island Park, 
and decide to call the canon above Whirlpool 
Canon. 

June 23. — We remain in camp to-day to 
repair our boats, which have had hard knocks, 
and are leaking. Tvv^o of the men go out 
with the barometer to climb the cliff at the 
foot of Whirlpool Canon and measure the 



98 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

walls ; another goes on the mountain to hunt ; 
and Bradley and I spend the day among the 
rocks, studying an interesting geological 
fold and collecting fossils. Late in the 
afternoon, the hunter returns, and brings 
with him a fine, fat deer, so we give his name 
to the mountain — Mount Hawkins. Just 
before night we move camp to the lower end 
of the park, floating down the river about 
four miles. 

June 24. — Bradley and I start early to 
climb the mountain ridge to the east ; find its 
summit to be nearly three thousand feet 
above camp, and it has required some labor 
to scale it ; but on its top, what a view ! There 
is a long spur running out from the Uinta 
Mountains toward the south, and the river 
runs lengthwise through it. Coming down 
Lodore and Whirlpool Canons, we cut 
through the southern slope of the Uinta 
Mountains ; and the lower end of this latter 
canon runs into the spur, but, instead of split- 
ting it the whole length, the river wheels to 
the right at the foot of Whirlpool Canon, in 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 99 

a great curve to the northwest, through 
Island Park. At the lower end of the park, 
the river turns again to the southeast, and 
cuts into the mountain to its center, and then 
makes a detour to the southwest, splitting 
the mountain ridge for a distance of six miles 
nearly to its foot, and then turns out of it to 
the left. All this we can see where we stand 
on the summit of Mount Hawkins, and so 
we name the gorge below Split Mountain 
Canon. 

We are standing three thousand feet 
above its waters, which are troubled with bil- 
lows, and white with foam. Its walls are set 
with crags and peaks, and buttressed towers, 
and overhanging domes. Turning to the 
right, the park is below us, with its island 
groves reflected by the deep, quiet waters. 
Rich meadows stretch out on either hand, 
to the verge of a sloping plain, that comes 
down from the distant mountains. These 
plains are of almost naked rock, in strange 
contrast to the meadows; blue and lilac col- 
ored rocks, buff and pink, vermilion and 



100 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

brown, and all these colors clear and bright. 
A dozen little creeks, dry the greater part of 
the year, run down through the half circle of 
exposed formations, radiating from the 
island-center to the rim of the basin. Each 
creek has its system of side streams, and each 
side stream has its system of laterals, and, 
again, these are divided, so that this out- 
stretched slope of rock is elaborately em- 
bossed. Beds of different colored forma- 
tions run in parallel bands on either side. 
The perspective, modified by the undula- 
tions, gives the bands a waved appearance, 
and the high colors gleam in the midday sun 
with the luster of satin. We are tempted 
to call this Rainbow Park. Away beyond 
these beds are the Uinta and Wasatch 
Mountains, with their pine forests and snow 
fields and naked peaks. Now we turn to 
the right, and look up Whirlpool Canon, 
a deep gorge, with a river in the bottom — 
a gloomy chasm, where mad waves roar; 
but, at this distance and altitude, the river 
is , but a rippling brook, and the chasm a 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 101 

narrow cleft. The top of the mountain 
on which we stand is a broad, grassy table, 
and a herd of deer is feeding in the dis- 
tance. Walking over to the southeast, we 
look down into the valley of Wliite River, 
and beyond that see the far distant Rocky 
Mountains, in mellow, perspective haze, 
through which snow fields shine. 

June 25. — This morning, we enter Split 
Mountain Canon, sailing in through a 
broad, flaring, brilliant gateway. We run 
two or three rapids after they have been 
carefully examined. Then we have a series 
of six or eight, over which we are compelled 
to pass by letting the boats down with 
lines. This occupies the entire day, and we 
camp at night at the mouth of a great 
cave. 

The cave is at the foot of one of these 
rapids, and the waves dash in nearly to its 
very end. We can pass along a little shelf 
at the side until we reach the back part. 
Swallows have built their nests in the ceil- 
ing, and they wheel in, chattering and scold- 



10£ FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ing at our intrusion; but their clamor is al- 
most drowned by the noise of the waters. 
Looking out of the cave, we can see, far up 
the river, a line of crags standing sentinel 
on either side, and JNIount Hawkins in the 
distance. 

June 26. — The forenoon is spent in get- 
ting our large boats over the rapids. This 
afternoon, we find three falls in close suc- 
cession. We carry our rations over the 
rocks, and let our boats shoot over the falls, 
checking and bringing them to land with 
lines in the eddies below. At three o'clock 
we are all aboard again. Down the river 
we are carried by the swift waters at great 
speed, sheering around a rock now and then 
with a timely stroke or two of the oars. At 
one point, the river turns from left to right, 
in a direction at right angles to the caiion, 
in a long chute, and strikes the right, where 
its waters are heaped up in great billows, 
that tumble back in breakers. We glide 
into the chute before we see the danger, and 
it is too late to stop. Two or three hard 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 103 

strokes are given on the right, and we pause 
for an instant, expecting to be dashed 
against the rock. The bow of the boat 
leaps high on a great wave ; the rebounding 
waters hurl us back, and the peril is past. 
The next moment, the other boats are hur- 
riedly signaled to land on the left. Ac- 
complishing this, the men walk along the 
shore, holding the boats near the bank, and 
let them drift around. Starting again, we 
soon debouch into a beautiful valley, and 
glide down its length for ten miles, and 
camp under a grand old cottonwood. This 
is evidently a frequent resort for Indians. 
Tent poles are lying about, and the dead 
embers of late camp fires are seen. On the 
plains, to the left, antelope are feeding. 
Now and then a wolf is seen, and after dark 
they make the air resound with their howl- 
ing. 

June 27.— Now our way is along a gently 
flowing river, beset with many islands; 
groves are seen on either side, and natural 
meadows, where herds of antelope are feed- 



104< FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ing. Here and there we have views of the 
distant mountains on the right. 

During the afternoon, we make a long 
detour to the west, and return again, to a 
point not more than half a mile from where 
we started at noon, and here we camp, for 
the night, under a high bluff. 

June 28. — To-day, the scenery on either 
side of the river is much the same as that of 
yesterday, except that two or three lakes 
are discovered, lying in the valley to the 
west. After dinner, we run but a few min- 
utes, when we discover the mouth of the 
Uinta, a river coming in from the west. Up 
the valley of this stream, about forty miles, 
the reservation of the Uinta Indians is sit- 
uated. We propose to go there, and see if 
we can replenish our mess kit, and, perhaps, 
send letters to friends. We also desire to 
establish an astronomic station here; and 
hence this will be our stopping place for 
several days. 

Some years ago. Captain Berthoud sur- 
veyed a stage route from Salt Lake City to 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 105 

Denver, and this is the place where he 
crossed the Green River. His party was 
encamped here for some time, constructing 
a ferry boat and opening a road. 

A httle above the mouth of the Uinta, on 
the west side of the Green, there is a lake of 
several thousand acres. We carry our 
boat across the divide between this and the 
river, have a row on its quiet waters, and 
succeed in shooting several ducks. 

June 29. — A mile and three quarters from 
here is the junction of the White River with 
the Green. The White has its source far 
to the east, in the Rocky Mountains. This 
morning, I cross the Green, and go over into 
the valley of the White, and extend my 
walk several miles along its winding way, 
until, at last, I come in sight of some 
strangely carved rocks, named by General 
Hughes, in his journal, "Goblin City." 
Our last winter's camp was situated a hun- 
dred miles above the point reached to-day. 
The course of the river, for much of the dis- 
tance, is through canons; but, at some 



106 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

places, valleys are found. Excepting these 
little valleys, the region is one of great des- 
olation: arid, almost treeless, bluffs, hills, 
ledges of rock, and drifting sands. Along 
the course of the Green, however, from the 
foot of Split Mountain Canon to a point 
some distance below the mouth of the Uinta, 
there are many groves of cottonwood, nat- 
ural meadows, and rich lands. This arable 
belt extends some distance up the White 
River, on the east, and the Uinta, on the 
west, and the time must soon come when 
settlers will penetrate this country, and 
make homes. 

June 30. — We have a row up the Uinta 
to-day, but are not able to make much head- 
way against the swift current, and hence 
conclude we must walk all the way to the 
agency. 

July 1. — Two days have been employed 
in obtaining the local time, taking observa- 
tions for latitude and longitude, and mak- 
ing excursions into the adjacent country. 
This morning, with two of the men, I start 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 107 

for the Agency. It is a toilsome walk, 
twenty miles of the distance being across 
a sand desert. Occasionally, we have to 
wade the river, crossing it back and forth. 
Toward evening, we cross several beautiful 
streams, which are tributaries of the Uinta, 
and we pass through pine groves and mead- 
ows, arriving just at dusk at the Reserva- 
tion. Captain Dodds, the agent, is away, 
having gone to Salt Lake City, but his as- 
sistants received us very kindly. It is 
rather pleasant to see a house once more, 
and some evidences of civilization, even if it 
is on an Indian reservation, several days' 
ride from the nearest home of the white 
man. 

July 2. — I go, this morning, to visit 
Tsau'-wi-at. This old chief is but the 
wreck of a man, and no longer has influence. 
Looking at him, you can scarcely realize 
that he is a man. His skin is shrunken, 
wrinkled, and dry, and seems to cover no 
more than a form of bones. He is said to 
be more than a hundred years old. I talk 



108 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

a little with him, but his conversation is in- 
coherent, though he seems to take pride in 
showing me some medals, that must have 
been given him many years ago. He has 
a pipe which, he says, he has used a long 
time. I offer to exchange with him, and he 
seems to be glad to accept; so I add another 
to my collection of pipes. His wife, "The 
Bishop," as she is called, is a very garrulous 
old woman; she exerts a great influence, 
and is much revered. She is the only In- 
dian woman I have known to occupy a place 
in the council ring. She seems very much 
younger than her husband, and, though 
wrinkled and ugly, is still vigorous. She 
has much to say to me concerning the con- 
dition of the people, and seems very anxious 
that they should learn to cultivate the soil, 
own farms, and live like white men. After 
talking a couple of hours with these old peo- 
ple, I go to see the farms. They are situ- 
ated in a very beautiful district, where many 
fine streams of water meander across al- 
luvial plains and meadows. These creeks 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 109 

have quite a fall, and it is very easy to take 
their waters out above, and, with them, 
overflow the lands. 

It will be remembered that irrigation is 
necessary, in this dry climate, to successful 
farming. Quite a number of Indians have 
each a patch of ground, of two or three 
acres, on which they are raising wheat, po- 
tatoes, turnips, pumpkins, melons, and 
other vegetables. Most of the crops are 
looking well, and it is rather surprising with 
what pride they show us that they are able 
to cultivate crops like white men. They are 
still occupying lodges, and refuse to build 
houses, assigning as a reason that when any 
one dies in a lodge it is always abandoned, 
and very often burned with all the effects 
of the deceased, and when houses have been 
built for them they have been treated in the 
same way. With their unclean habits, a 
fixed residence would doubtless be no pleas- 
ant place. This beautiful valley has been 
the home of a people of a higher grade of 
civilization than the present Utes. Evi- 



110 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

dences of this are quite abundant; on our 
way here yesterday we discovered, in many 
places along the trail, fragments of pottery ; 
and wandering about the little farms to-day, 
I find the foundations of ancient houses, and 
mealing stones that were not used by no- 
madic people, as they are too heavy to be 
transported by such tribes, and are deeply 
worn. The Indians, seeing that I am inter- 
ested in these matters, take pains to show 
me several other places where these evi- 
dences remain, and tell me that they know 
nothing about the people who formerly 
dwelt here. They further tell me that up 
in the canon the rocks are covered with pic- 
tures. 

July 5. — The last two days have been 
spent in studying the language of the In- 
dians, and making collections of articles il- 
lustrating the state of arts among them. 

Frank Goodman informs me, this morn- 
ing, that he has concluded not to go on with 
the party, saying that he has seen danger 



ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 111 

enough. It will be remembered that he 
was one of the crew on the No Name when 
she was wrecked. As our boats are rather 
heavily loaded, I am content that he should 
leave, although he has been a faithful man. 
We start early on our return to the boats, 
taking horses with us from the reservation, 
and two Indians, who are to bring the ani- 
mals back. 

Whirlpool Canon is fourteen and a quar- 
ter miles in length, the walls varying from 
one thousand eight hundred to two thou- 
sand four hundred feet in height. The 
course of the river through Island Park is 
nine miles. Spht Mountain Canon is eight 
miles long. The highest crags on its walls 
reach an altitude above the river of from two 
thousand five hundred to two thousand 
seven hundred feet. In these canons, ce- 
dars only are found on the walls. 

The distance by river from the foot of 
Split Mountain Canon to the mouth of the 



112 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Uinta is sixty-seven miles. The valley- 
through which it runs is the home of many 
antelope, and we have adopted the Indian 
name, Won'-sits Yu-av — Antelope Valley. 



CHAPTER VI 

FROM THE MOUTH OF THE UINTA RIVER TO 
THE JUNCTION OF THE GRAND AND GREEN 

JULY 6. — Start early this morning. 
A short distance below the mouth 
of the Uinta, we come to the head 
of a long island. Last winter, a man 
named Johnson, a hunter and Indian trader, 
visited us at our camp in White River Val- 
ley. This man has an Indian wife, and, 
having no fixed home, usually travels with 
one of the Ute bands. He informed me it 
was his intention to plant some corn, pota- 
toes, and other vegetables on this island in 
the spring, and, knowing that we would pass 
it, invited us to stop and help ourselves, even 
if he should not be there ; so we land and go 
out on the island. Looking about, we soon 
discover his garden, but it is in a sad condi- 

113 



114* FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

tion, having received no care since it was 
planted. It is yet too early in the season 
for corn, but Hall suggests that potato tops 
are good greens, and, anxious for some 
change from our salt meat fare, we gather 
a quantity and take them aboard. At noon 
we stop and cook our greens for dinner ; but 
soon, one after another of the party is taken 
sick; nausea first, and then severe vomiting, 
and we tumble around under the trees, 
groaning with pain, and I feel a little 
alarmed, lest our poisoning be severe. 
Emetics are administered to those who are 
willing to take them, and about the middle 
of the afternoon we are all rid of the pain. 
Jack Sumner records in his diary that '*Po- 
tato tops are not good greens on the sixth 
day of July." * 

This evening we enter another canon, al- 
most imperceptibly, as the walls rise very 
gently. 

* Potato tops do make good greens when they are young, 
but become poisonous as they mature, like poke shoots. 
{Ed.) 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 115 

July 7. — We find quiet water to-day, the 
river sweeping in great and beautiful 
curves, the canon walls steadily increasing 
in altitude. The escarpment formed by the 
cut edges of the rock are often vertical, 
sometimes terraced, and in some places the 
treads of the terraces are sloping. In these 
quiet curves vast amphitheaters are formed, 
now in vertical rocks, now in steps. 

The salient point of rock within the curve 
is usually broken down in a steep slope, and 
we stop occasionally to climb up, at such a 
place, where, on looking down, v/e can see 
the river sweeping the foot of the opposite 
cliff, in a great, easy curve, with a perpen- 
dicular or terraced wall rising from the wa- 
ter's edge many hundreds of feet. One of 
these we find very symmetrical, and name 
it Sumner's Amphitheater. The cliffs are 
rarely broken by the entrance of side canons, 
and we sweep around curve after curve, 
with almost continuous walls, for several 
miles. 

Late in the afternoon, we find the river 



116 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

much rougher, and come upon rapids, not 
dangerous, but still demanding close atten- 
tion. 

We camp at night on the right bank, hav- 
ing made to-day twenty-six miles. 

July 8. — This morning, Bradley and I 
go out to climb, and gain an altitude of 
more than two thousand feet above the river, 
but still do not reach the summit of the 
wall. 

After dinner, we pass through a region of 
the wildest desolation. The canon is very 
tortuous, the river very rapid, and many 
lateral canons enter on either side. These 
usually have their branches, so that the re- 
gion is cut into a wilderness of gray and 
brown cliffs. In several places, these lat- 
eral canons are only separated from each 
other by narrow walls, often hundreds of 
feet high, but so narrow in places that where 
softer rocks are found below, they have 
crumbled away, and left holes in the wall, 
forming passages from one canon into an- 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 117 

other. These we often call natural bridges ; 
but they were never intended to span 
streams. They had better, perhaps, be 
called side doors between canon chambers. 

Piles of broken rock he against these 
walls; crags and tower shaped peaks are 
seen everywhere; and away above them, 
long lines of broken cliffs, and above and 
beyond the cliffs are pine forests, of which 
we obtain occasional glimpses, as we look 
up through a vista of rocks. 

The walls are almost without vegetation; 
a few dwarf bushes are seen here and there, 
clinging to the rocks, and cedars grow from 
the crevices — not like the cedars of a land 
refreshed with rains, great cones bedecked 
with spray, but ugly clumps, like war clubs, 
beset with spines. We are minded to call 
this the Canon of Desolation. 

The wind annoys us much to-day. The 
water, rough by reason of the rapids, is made 
more so by head gales. Wlierever a great 
face of rock has a southern exposure, the 



118 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

rarified air rises, and the wind rushes in be- 
low, either up or down the canon, or both, 
causing local currents. 

Just at sunset, we run a bad rapid, and 
camp at its foot. 

July 9. — Our run to-day is through a 
canon, with ragged, broken walls, many lat- 
eral gulches or canons entering on either 
side. The river is rough, and occasionally 
it becomes necessary to use lines in passing 
rocky places. During the afternoon, we 
come to a rather open canon valley, stretch- 
ing up toward the west, its farther end lost 
in the mountains. From a point to which 
we climb, we obtain a good view of its 
course, until its angular walls are lost in the 
vista. 

July 10. — Simmer, who is a fine mechan- 
ist, is learning to take observations for time 
with the sextant. To-day, he remains in 
camp to practice. 

Howland and myself determine to climb 
out, and start up a lateral canon, taking a 
barometer with us, for the purpose of meas^ 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 119 

uring the thickness of the strata over which 
we pass. The readings of a barometer be- 
low are recorded every half hour, and our 
observations must be simultaneous. Where 
the beds, which we desire to measure, are 
very thick, we must climb with the utmost 
speed, to reach their summits in time. 
Again, where there are thinner beds, we 
wait for the moment to arrive; and so, by 
hard and easy stages, we make our way to 
the top of the canon wall, and reach the 
plateau above about two o'clock. 

Howland, who has his gun with him, sees 
deer feeding a mile or two back, and goes 
off for a hunt. I go to a peak, which seems 
to be the highest one in this region, about 
half a mile distant, and climb, for the pur- 
pose of tracing the topography of the ad- 
jacent country. From this point, a fine 
view is obtained. A long plateau stretches 
across the river, in an easterly and westerly 
direction, the summit covered by pine for- 
ests, with intervening elevated valleys and 
gulches. The plateau itself is cut in two 



1^0 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

by the canon. Other side canons head 
away back from the river, and run down 
into the Green. Besides these, deep and 
abrupt canons are seen to head back on the 
plateau, and run north toward the Uinta 
and White Rivers. Still other canons head 
in the valleys, and run toward the south. 
The elevation of the plateau being about 
eight thousand feet above the level of the 
sea, brings it into a region of moisture, as 
is well attested by the forests and grassy 
valleys. The plateau seems to rise gradu- 
ally to the west, until it merges into the 
Wasatch Mountains. On these high table 
lands, elk and deer abound; and they are 
favorite hunting gi^ounds for the Ute In- 
dians. 

A little before sunset, Howland and I 
meet again at the head of the side canon, 
and down we start. It is late, and we must 
make great haste, or be caught by the dark- 
ness ; so we go, running where we can ; leap- 
ing over the ledges ; letting each other down 
on the loose rocks, as long as we can see. 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 121 

When darkness comes, we are still some dis- 
tance from camp, and a long, slow, anxious 
descent we make, towards the gleaming camp 
fire. 

After supper, observations for latitude 
are taken, and only two or three hours for 
sleep remain, before daylight. 

July 11. — ^A short distance below camp 
we run a rapid, and, in doing so, break an 
oar, and then lose another, both belonging 
to the Emma Dean, So the pioneer boat 
has but two oars. 

We see nothing of which oars can be made, 
so we conclude to run on to some point, 
where it seems possible to cHmb out to the 
forests on the plateau, and there we will pro- 
cure suitable timber from which to make 
new ones. 

We soon approach another rapid. Stand- 
ing on deck, I think it can be run, and on 
we go. Coming nearer, I see that at the 
foot it has a short turn to the left, where the 
waters pile up against the cliff. Here we 
try to land, but quickly discover that, being 



122 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

in swift water, above the fall, we cannot 
reach shore, crippled, as we are, by the loss 
of two oars ; so the bow of the boat is turned 
down stream. We shoot by a big rock; a 
reflex wave rolls over our httle boat and fills 
her. I see the place is dangerous, and 
quickly signal to the other boats to land 
where they can. This is scarcely completed 
when another wave rolls our boat over, and 
I am thrown some distance into the water. 
I soon find that swimming is very easy, and 
I cannot sink. It is only necessary to ply 
strokes sufficient to keep my head out of the 
water, though now and then, when a breaker 
rolls over me, I close my mouth, and am car- 
ried through it. The boat is drifting ahead 
of me twenty or thirty feet, and, when the 
great waves are passed, I overtake it, and 
find Sumner and Dunn clinging to her. As 
soon as we reach quiet water, we all swim to 
one side and turn her over. In doing this, 
Dunn loses his hold and goes under; when 
he comes up, he is caught by Sumner and 
pulled to the boat. In the meantime we 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 123 

have drifted down stream some distance, and 
see another rapid below. How bad it may 
be we cannot tell, so we swim toward shore, 
pulling our boat with us, with all the vigor 
possible, but are carried down much faster 
than distance toward shore is gained. At 
last we reach a huge pile of drift wood. Our 
rolls of blankets, two guns, and a barometer 
were in the open compartment of the boat, 
and, when it went over, these were thrown 
out. The guns and barometer are lost, but 
I succeeded in catching one of the rolls of 
blankets, as it drifted by, when we were 
swimming to shore; the other two are lost, 
and sometimes hereafter we may sleep cold. 

A huge fire is built on the bank, our cloth- 
ing is spread to dry, and then from the drift 
logs we select one from which we think oars 
can be made, and the remainder of the day is 
spent in sawing them out. 

July 12. — This morning, the new oars 
are finished, and we start once more. We 
pass several bad rapids, making a short port- 
age at one, and before noon we come to a 



124 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

long, bad fall, where the channel is filled with 
rocks on the left, turning the waters to the 
right, where they pass under an overhanging 
rock. On examination, we determine to run 
it, keeping as close to the left hand rocks as 
safety will permit, in order to avoid the over- 
hanging cliff. The little boat runs over all 
right; another follows, but the men are not 
able to keep her near enough to the left bank, 
and she is carried, by a swift chute, into great 
waves to the right, where she is tossed about, 
and Bradley is knocked over the side, but his 
foot catching under the seat, he is dragged 
along in the water, with his head down ; mak- 
ing great exertion, he seizes the gunwale 
with his left hand, and can lift his head above 
water now and then. To us who are below, 
it seems impossible to keep the boat from 
going under the overhanging cliff ; but Pow- 
ell, for the moment, heedless of Bradley's 
mishap, pulls with all his power for half a 
dozen strokes, when the danger is past ; then 
he seizes Bradley, and pulls him in. The 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 1^5 

men in the boat above, seeing this, land, and 
she is let down by lines. 

Just here we emerge from the Canon of 
Desolation, as we have named it, into a more 
open country, which extends for a distance 
of nearly a mile, when we enter another 
canon, cut through gray sandstone. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon we 
meet with a new difficulty. The river fills 
the entire channel; the walls are vertical on 
either side, from the water's edge, and a bad 
rapid is beset with rocks. We come to the 
head of it, and land on a rock in the stream; 
the little boat is let down to another rock 
below, the men of the larger boat holding to 
the line; the second boat is let down in the 
same way, and the line of the third boat is 
brought with them. Now, the third boat 
pushes out from the upper rock, and, as we 
have her line below, we pull in and catch her, 
as she is sweeping by at the foot of the rock 
on which we stand. Again the first boat is 
let down stream the full length of her line, 



126 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

and the second boat is passed down by the 
first to the extent of her line, which is held 
by the men in the first boat; so she is two 
lines' length from where she started. Then 
the third boat is let down past the second, 
and still down, nearly to the length of her 
line, so that she is fast to the second boat, 
and swinging down three lines' lengths, with 
the other two boats intervening. Held in 
this way, the men are able to pull her into a 
cove, in the left wall, where she is made fast. 
But this leaves a man on the rock above, 
holding to the line of the little boat. When 
all is ready, he springs from the rock, cling- 
ing to the line with one hand, and swimming 
with the other, and we pull him in as he goes 
by. As the two boats, thus loosened, drift 
down, the men in the cove pull us all in, as 
we come opposite ; then we pass around to a 
point of rock below the cove, close to the 
wall, land, and make a short portage over the 
worst places in the rapid, and start again. 

At night we camp on a sand beach; the 
wind blows a hurricane; the drifting sand 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 127 

almost blinds us; and nowhere can we find 
shelter. The wind continues to blow all 
night; the sand sifts through our blankets, 
and piles over us, until we are covered as in 
a snow-drift. We are glad when morning 
comes. 

July 13. — This morning, we have an ex- 
hilarating ride. The river is swift, and 
there are many smooth rapids. I stand on 
deck, keeping careful watch ahead, and we 
glide along, mile after mile, plying strokes 
now on the right, and then on the left, just 
sufficient to guide our boats past the rocks 
into smooth water. At noon we emerge 
from Gray Canon, as we have named it, and 
camp, for dinner, under a cottonwood tree, 
standing on the left bank. 

Extensive sand plains extend back from 
the immediate river valley, as far as we can 
see, on either side. These naked, drifting 
sands gleam brilliantly in the midday sun of 
July. The reflected heat from the glaring 
surface produces a curious motion of the at- 
mosphere; little currents are generated, and 



128 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

the whole seems to be trembling and moving 
about in many directions, or, failing to see 
that the movement is in the atmosphere, it 
gives the impression of an unstable land. 
Plains, and hills, and cliffs, and distant 
mountains seem vaguely to be floating about 
in a trembling, wave rocked sea, and patches 
of landscape will seem to float away, and be 
lost, and then re-appear. 

Just opposite, there are buttes, that are 
outliers of cliffs to the left. Below, they are 
composed of shales and marls of light blue 
and slate colors; and above, the rocks are 
buff and gray, and then brown. The buttes 
are buttressed below, where the azure rocks 
are seen, and terraced above through the 
gray and brown beds. A long line of cliffs 
or rock escarpments separate the table 
lands, through which Gray Canon is cut, 
from the lower plain. The eye can trace 
these azure beds and cliffs, on either side of 
the river, in a long line, extending across its 
course, until they fade away in the perspec- 
tive. These cliffs are many miles in length. 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 1^9 

and hundreds of feet high; and all these 
buttes — great mountain-masses of rock — 
are dancing and fading away, and re-ap- 
pearing, softly moving about, or so they 
seem to the eye, as seen through the shifting 
atmosphere. 

This afternoon, our way is through a val- 
ley, with Cottonwood groves on either side. 
The river is deep, broad, and quiet. 

About two hours from noon camp, we dis- 
cover an Indian crossing, where a number of 
rafts, rudely constructed of logs and bound 
together by withes, are floating against the 
bank. On landing, we see evidences that a 
party of Indians have crossed within a very 
few days. This is the place where the la- 
mented Gunnison crossed, in the year 1853, 
when making an exploration for a railroad 
route to the Pacific coast. 

An hour later, we run a long rapid, and 
stop at its foot to examine some curious 
rocks, deposited by mineral springs that at 
one time must have existed here, but which 
are no longer flowing. 



130 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

July 14. — This morning, we pass some cu- 
rious black bluffs on the right, then two or 
three short canons, and then we discover the 
mouth of the San Rafael, a stream which 
comes down from the distant mountains in 
the west. Here we stop for an hour or two, 
and take a short walk up the valley, and find 
it is a frequent resort for Indians. Arrow 
heads are scattered about, many of them 
very beautiful. Flint chips are seen strewn 
over the ground in great profusion, and the 
trails are well worn. 

Starting after dinner, we pass some beau- 
tiful buttes on the left, many of which are 
very symmetrical. They are chiefly com- 
posed of gypsum of many hues, from light 
gray to slate color; then pink, purple, and 
brown beds. 

Now, we enter another canon. Gradually 
the walls rise higher and higher as we pro- 
ceed, and the summit of the canon is formed 
of the same beds of orange colored sand- 
stone. Back from the brink, the hollows of 
the plateau are filled with sand disinte- 



tJINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND ISl 

grated from these orange beds. They are of 
rich cream color, shaded into maroon, every- 
where destitute of vegetation, and drifted 
into long, wave like ridges. 

The course of the river is tortuous, and it 
nearly doubles upon itself many times. The 
water is quiet, and constant rowing is neces- 
sary to make much headway. Sometimes, 
there is a narrow flood plain between the 
river and the wall, on one side or the other. 
Where these long, gentle curves are found, 
the river washes the very foot of the outer 
wall. A long peninsula of willow bordered 
meadow projects within the curve, and the 
talus, at the foot of the cliff, is usually cov- 
ered with dwarf oaks. The orange colored 
sandstone is very homogeneous in structure, 
and the walls are usually vertical, though not 
very high. Where the river sweeps around 
a curve under a cliff, a vast hollow dome may 
be seen, with many caves and deep alcoves, 
that are greatly admired by the members of 
the party, as we go by. 

We camp at night on the left bank. 



132 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

July 15. — Our camp is in a great bend of 
the canon. The perimeter of the curve is to 
the west, and we are on the east side of the 
river. Just opposite, a little stream comes 
down through a narrow side canon. We 
cross, and go up to explore it. Just at its 
mouth, another lateral canon enters, in the 
angle between the former and the main 
caiion above. Still another enters in the 
angle between the canon below and the side 
canon first mentioned, so that three side 
canons enter at the same point. These 
canons are very tortuous, almost closed in 
from view, and, seen from the opposite side 
of the river, they appear like three alcoves; 
and we name this Trin- Alcove Bend. 

Going up the little stream, in the central 
cove, we pass between high walls of sand- 
stone, and wind about in glens. Springs 
gush from the rocks at the foot of the walls ; 
narrow passages in the rocks are threaded, 
caves are entered, and many side canons are 
observed. 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 133 

The right cove is a narrow, winding gorge, 
with overhanging walls, almost shutting out 
the light. 

The left is an amphitheater, turning 
spirally up, with overhanging shelves. A 
series of basins, filled with water, are seen at 
different altitudes, as we pass up ; huge rocks 
are piled below on the right, and overhead 
there is an arched ceiling. After exploring 
these alcoves, we recross the river, and climb 
the rounded rocks on the point of the bend. 
In every direction, as far as we are able to 
see, naked rocks appear. Buttes are scat- 
tered on the landscape, here rounded into 
cones, there buttressed, columned, and carved 
in quaint shapes, with deep alcoves and 
sunken recesses. All about us are basins, 
excavated in the soft sandstones: and these 
have been filled by the late rains. 

Over the rounded rocks and water pockets 
we look off on a fine stretch of river, and 
beyond are naked rocks and beautiful buttes 
to the Azure Cliffs, and beyond these, and 



134 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

above them, the Brown Chffs, and still be- 
yond, mountain peaks ; and clouds piled over 
all. 

On we go, after dinner, with quiet water, 
still compelled to row, in order to make fair 
progress. The canon is yet very tortuous. 

About six miles below noon camp, we go 
around a great bend to the right, five miles 
in length, and come back to a point within a 
quarter of a mile of where we started. Then 
we sweep around another great bend to the 
left, making a circuit of nine miles, and come 
back to the point within six hundred yards of 
the beginning of the bend. In the two cir- 
cuits, we describe almost the figure 8. The 
men call it a bow-knot of river; so we name 
it Bow-Kaot Bend. The line of the figure 
is fourteeji miles in length. 

There is an exquisite charm in our ride to- 
day down this beautiful canon. It gradu- 
ally grows deeper with every mile of travel ; 
the walls are symmetrically curved, and 
grandly arched ; of a beautiful color, and re- 
flected in the quiet waters in many places, so 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 185 

as to almost deceive the eye, and suggest the 
thought, to the beholder, that he is looking 
into profound depths. We are all in fine 
spirits, feel very gay, and the badinage of 
the men is echoed from wall to wall. Now 
and then we whistle, or shout, or discharge a 
pistol, to listen to the reverberations among 
the cliffs. 

At night we camp on the south side of the 
great Bow- Knot, and, as we eat our supper, 
which is spread on the beach, we name this 
Labyrinth Canon. 

July 16. — Still we go down, on our wind- 
ing way. We pass tower cliffs, then we find 
the river widens out for several miles, and 
meadows are seen on either side, between the 
river and the walls. We name this expan- 
sion of the river Tower Park. 

At two o'clock we emerge from Labyrinth 
Canon, and go into camp. 

July 17. — The line which separates 
Labyrinth Canon from the one below is but 
a line, and at once, this morning, we enter 
another canon. The water fills the entire 



136 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

channel, so that nowhere is there room to 
land. The walls are low, but vertical, and, 
as we proceed, they gradually increase in 
altitude. Running a couple of miles, the 
river changes its course many degrees, to- 
ward the east. Just here, a little stream 
comes in on the right, and the wall is broken 
down ; so we land, and go out to take a view 
of the surrounding country. We are now 
down among the buttes, and in a region the 
surface of which is naked, solid rock — a 
beautiful red sandstone, forming a smooth, 
undulating pavement. The Indians call 
this the ''Toom'-pin Tu-weap^" or "Rock 
Land," and the "Toom^-pin wu-neaf Tu- 
"voeap^ y or "Land of Standing Rock." 

Off to the south we see a butte, in the form 
of a fallen cross. It is several miles away, 
still it presents no inconspicuous figure on 
the landscape, and must be many hundreds 
of feet high, probably more than two thou- 
sand. We note its position on our map, and 
name it "The Butte of the Cross." 

We continue our journey. In many 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 137 

places the walls, which rise from the water's 
edge, are overhanging on either side. The 
stream is still quiet, and we glide along, 
through a strange, weird, grand region. 
The landscape everywhere, away from the 
river, is of rock — cliffs of rock; tables of 
rock; plateaus of rock; terraces of rock; 
crags of rock — ten thousand strangely 
carved forms. Rocks everywhere, and no 
vegetation ; no soil ; no sand. In long, gentle 
curves, the river winds about these rocks. 

When speaking of these rocks, we must 
not conceive of piles of boulders, or heaps of 
fragments, but a whole land of naked rock, 
with giant forms carved on it: cathedral 
shaped buttes, towering hundreds or thou- 
sands of feet; cliffs that cannot be scaled, 
and canon walls that shrink the river into 
insignificance, with vast, hollow domes, and 
tall pinnacles, and shafts set on the verge 
overhead, and all highly colored — buff, gray, 
red, brown, and chocolate; never lichened; 
never moss-covered ; but bare, and often pol- 
ished. 



188 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

We pass a place where two bends of the 
river come together, an intervening rock 
having been worn away, and a new channel 
formed across. The old channel ran in a 
great circle around to the right, by what was 
once a circular peninsula; then an island; 
then the water left the old channel entirely, 
and passed through the cut, and the old bed 
of the river is dry. So the great circular 
rock stands by itself, with precipitous walls 
all about it, and we find but one place where 
it can be scaled. Looking from its summit, 
a long stretch of river is seen, sweeping close 
to the overhanging cliffs on the right, but 
having a little meadow between it and the 
wall on the left. The curve is very gentle 
and regular. We name this Bonita Bend. 

And just here we climb out once more, to 
take another bearing on The Butte of the 
Cross. Reaching an eminence, from which 
we can overlook the landscape, we are sur- 
prised to find that our butte, with its wonder- 
ful form, is indeed two buttes, one so stand- 
ing in front of the other that, from our last 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 189 

point of view, it gave the appearance of a 
cross. 

Again, a few miles below Bonita Bend, 
we go out a mile or two along the rocks, to- 
ward the Orange Cliffs, passing over ter- 
races paved with jasper. 

The chffs are not far away, and we soon 
reach them, and wander in some deep, 
painted alcoves, which attracted our atten- 
tion from the river; then we return to our 
boats. 

Late in the afternoon, the water becomes 
swift, and our boats make great speed. An 
hour of this rapid running brings us to the 
junction of the Grand and Green, the foot 
of Stillwater Canon, as we have named it. 

These streams unite in solemn depths, 
more than one thousand two hundred feet 
below the general surface of the country. 
The walls of the lower end of Stillwater 
Canon are very beautifully curved, as the 
river sweeps in its meandering course. The 
lower end of the canon through which the 
Grand comes down, is also regular, but much 



140 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

more direct, and we look up this stream, and 
out into the country beyond, and obtain 
glimpses of snow clad peaks, the summits 
of a group of mountains known as the Sierra 
La Sal. Down the Colorado, the canon 
walls are much broken. 

We row around into the Grand, and camp 
on its northwest bank; and here we propose 
to stay several days, for the purpose of de- 
termining the latitude and longitude, and 
the altitude of the walls. Much of the night 
is spent in making observations with the sex- 
tant. 

The distance from the mouth of the Uinta 
to the head of the Canon of Desolation is 
twenty and three-quarters miles. The 
Canon of Desolation is ninety-seven miles 
long; Gray Canon thirty-six. The course 
of the river through Gunnison's Valley is 
twenty-seven and a quarter miles ; Labyrinth 
Canon, sixty-two and a half miles. 

In the Canon of Desolation, the highest 
rocks immediately over the river are about 



UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 141 

two thousand four hundred feet. This is at 
Log Cabin Cliff. The highest part of the 
terrace is near the brink of the Brown CHff s. 
Climbing the immediate walls of the canon, 
and passing back to the canon terrace, and 
climbing that, we find the altitude, above 
the river, to be 3,300 feet. The lower end of 
Gray Cailon is about 2,000 feet; the lower 
end of Labyrinth Canon, 1,300 feet. 

Stillwater Canon is forty-two and three- 
quarters miles long; the highest walls, 1,300 
feet. 




CHAPTER VII 

OFROM THE JUNCTION OF THE GRAND AND 
GREEN TO THE MOUTH OF THE LITTLE 
COLORADO 

ULY 18. — The day is spent in ob- 
taining the time, and spreading our 
rations, which, we findj are badly in- 
jured. The flour has been wet and dried 
so many times that it is all musty, and full 
of hard lumps. We make a sieve of mos- 
quito netting, and run our flour through it, 
losing more than two hundred pounds by 
the process. Our losses, by the wrecking 
of the No Name^ and by various mishaps 
since, together with the amount thrown 
away to-day, leave us little more than two 
months' supplies, and, to make them last 
thus long, we must be fortunate enough to 
lose no more. 

142 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 14S 

We drag our boats on shore, and turn 
them over to recalk and pitch them, and 
Sumner is engaged in repairing barometers. 
While we are here, for a day or two, resting, 
we propose to put everything in the best 
shape for a vigorous campaign. 

July 19. — Bradley and I start this morn- 
ing to chmb the left wall below the junction. 
The way we have selected is up a gulch. 
Climbing for an hour over and among the 
rocks, we find ourselves in a vast amphithe- 
ater, and our way cut off. We clamber 
around to the left for half an hour, until 
we find that we cannot go up in that direc- 
tion. Then we try the rocks around to the 
right, and discover a narrow shelf, nearly 
half a mile long. In some places, this is 
so wide that we pass along with ease; in oth- 
ers, it is so narrow and sloping that we are 
compelled to he down and crawl. We can 
look over the edge of the shelf, down eight 
hundred feet, and see the river rolling and 
plunging among the rocks. Looking up 
five hundred feet, to the brink of the chff, 



144 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

it seems to blend with the sky. We continue 
along, until we come to a point where the 
wall is again broken down. Up we climb. 
On the right, there is a narrow, mural point 
of rocks, extending toward the river, two 
or three hundred feet high, and six or eight 
hundred feet long. We come back to 
where this sets in, and find it cut off from 
the main wall by a great crevice. Into this 
we pass. And now, a long, narrow rock is 
between us and the river. The rock itself 
is split longitudinally and transversely; and 
the rains on the surface above have run down 
through the crevices, and gathered into 
channels below, and then run off into the 
river. The crevices are usually narrow 
above, and, by erosion of the streams, wider 
below, forming a network of caves ; but each 
cave having a narrow, winding sky-light up 
through the rocks. 

We wander among these corridors for an 
hour or two, but find no place where the 
rocks are broken down, so that we can climb 
up. At last, we determine to attempt a pas- 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 145 

sage by a crevice, and select one which we 
think is wide enough to admit of the pas- 
sage of our bodies, and yet narrow enough 
to chmb out by i^ressing our hands and feet 
against the walls. So we climb as men 
would out of a well. Bradley chmbs first; 
I hand him the barometer, then climb over 
his head, and he hands me the barometer. 
So we pass each other alternately, until we 
emerge from the fissure, out on the summit 
of the rock. And what a world of gran- 
deur is spread before us! Below is the 
canon, through which the Colorado runs. 
We can trace its course for miles, and at 
points catch glimpses of the river. From 
the northwest comes the Green, in a narrow, 
winding gorge. From the northeast comes 
the Grand, through a canon that seems bot- 
tomless from where we stand. Away to 
the west are lines of chffs and ledges of 
rock — not such ledges as you may have seen 
where the quarryman spHts his blocks, but 
ledges from which the gods might quarry 
mountains, that, rolled out on the plain be- 



146 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

low, would stand a lofty range ; and not such 
cliffs as you may have seen where the swal- 
low huilds its nest, but cliffs where the soar- 
ing eagle is lost to view ere he reaches the 
summit. 

Between us and the distant cliffs are the 
strangely carved and pinnacled rocks of the 
Toom'-pin wu-near^ Tu-weap\ On the 
summit of the opposite wall of the canon are 
rock forms that we do not understand. 
Away to the east a group of eruptive moun- 
tains are seen — the Sierra La Sal. Their 
slopes are covered with pines, and deep 
gulches are flanked with great crags, and 
snow fields are seen near the summits. So 
the mountains are in uniform, green, gray, 
and silver. Wherever we look there is but 
a wilderness of rocks; deep gorges, where 
the rivers are lost below cliffs and towers 
and pinnacles; and ten thousand strangety 
carved forms in every direction ; and beyond 
them, mountains blending with the clouds. 

Now we return to camp. While we are 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 147 

eating supper, we very naturally speak of 
better fare, as musty bread and spoiled bacon 
are not pleasant. Soon I see Hawkins 
down by the boat, taking up the sextant, 
rather a strange proceeding for him, and 
I question him concerning it. He replies 
that he is trying to find the latitude and long- 
itude of the nearest pie. 

July 20.— This morning. Captain Powell 
and I go out to chmb the west wall of the 
canon, for the purpose of examining the 
strange rocks seen yesterday from the other 
side. Two hours bring us to the top, at a 
point between the Green and Colorado, over- 
looking the junction of the rivers. A long 
neck of rock extends toward the mouth of 
the Grand. Out on this we walk, crossing 
a gi^eat number of deep crevices. Usually, 
the smooth rock slopes down to the fissure 
on either side. Sometimes it is an interest- 
ing question to us whether the slope is not 
so steep that we cannot stand on it. Some- 
times, starting down, we are compelled to 



148 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

go on, and we are not always sure that the 
crevice is not too wide for a jump, when we 
measure it with our eye from above. 

Probably the slopes would not be difficult 
if there was not a fissure at the lower end; 
nor would the fissures cause fear if they 
were but a few feet deep. It is curious how a 
little obstacle becomes a great obstruction, 
when a misstep would land a man in the 
bottom of a deep chasm. Climbing the face 
of a cliff, a man will walk along a step or 
shelf, but a few inches wide, without hesi- 
tancy, if the landing is but ten feet below, 
should he fall; but if the foot of the cliff is 
a thousand feet down, he will crawl. At 
last our way is cut off by a fissure so deep and 
wide that we cannot pass it. Then we turn 
and walk back into the country, over the 
smooth, naked sandstone, without vegeta- 
tion, except that here and there dwarf cedars 
and pinon pines have found a footing in the 
huge cracks. There are great basins in the 
rock, holding water ; some but a few gallons, 
others hundreds of barrels. 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 149 

The day is spent in walking about through 
these strange scenes. A narrow gulch is cut 
into the wall of the main canon. Follow 
this up, and you climb rapidly, as if going 
up a mountain side, for the gulch heads but 
a few hundred or a few thousand yards from 
the wall. But this gulch has its side gulches, 
and, as you come near to the summit, a group 
of radiating canons is found. The spaces 
drained by these little canons are terraced, 
and are, to a greater or less extent, of the 
form of amphitheaters, though some are ob- 
long and some rather irregular. Usually, the 
spaces drained by any two of these little side 
canons are separated by a narrow wall, one, 
two, or three hundred feet high, and often 
but a few feet in thickness. Sometimes the 
wall is broken into a line of pyramids above, 
and still remains a wall below. Now, there 
are a number of these gulches which break 
the wall of the main canon of the Green, 
each one having its system of side canons 
and amphitheaters, inclosed by walls, or lines 
of pinnacles. 



150 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

The course of the Green, at this point, is 
approximately at right angles to that of the 
Colorado, and on the brink of the latter 
canon we find the same system of terraced 
and walled glens. The walls, and pinnacles, 
and towers are of sandstone, homogeneous in 
structure, but not in color, as they show 
broad bands of red, buff, and gray. This 
painting of the rocks, dividing them into sec- 
tions, increases their apparent height. In 
some places, these terraced and walled glens, 
along the Colorado, have coalesced with 
those along the Green; that is, the inter- 
vening walls are broken down. It is very 
rarely that a loose rock is seen. The sand 
is washed off so that the walls, terraces, and 
slopes of the glens are all of smooth sand- 
stone. 

In the walls themselves, curious caves and 
channels have been carved. In some places, 
there are little stairways up the walls; in 
others, the walls present what are known as 
royal arches; and so we wander through 
glens, and among pinnacles, and climb the 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 151 

walls from early morn until late in the after- 
noon. 

July 21. — We start this morning on the 
Colorado. The river is rough, and bad rap- 
ids, in close succession, are found. Two 
very hard portages are made during the fore- 
noon. After dinner, in running a rapid, the 
Emma Dean is swamped, and we are thrown 
into the river, we cling to her, and in the 
first quiet water below she is righted and 
bailed out; but three oars are lost in the 
mishap. The larger boats land above the 
dangerous place, and we make a portage, 
that occupies all the afternoon. We camp 
at night, on the rocks on the left bank, and 
can scarcety find room to lie down. 

July 22. — This morning, we continue our 
journey, though short of oars. There is no 
timber growing on the walls within our 
reach, and no drift wood along the banks, 
so we are compelled to go on until sometliing 
suitable can be found. A mile and three 
quarters below, we find a huge pile of drift 
wood, among which are some cottonwood 



152 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

logs. From these we select one which we 
think the best, and the men are set at work 
sawing oars. Our boats are leaking again, 
from the strains received in the bad rapids 
yesterday, so, after dinner, they are turned 
over, and some of the men are engaged in 
calking them. 

Captain Powell and I go out to climb the 
wall to the east, for we can see dwarf pines 
above, and it is our purpose to collect the 
resin which oozes from them, to use in pitch- 
ing our boats. We take a barometer with 
us, and find that the walls are becoming 
higher, for now they register an altitude, 
above the river, of nearly fifteen hundred 
feet. 

July 23. — On starting, we come at once 
to difficult rapids and falls, that, in many 
places, are more abrupt than in any of the 
canons through which we have passed, and 
we decide to name this Cataract Canon. 

From morning until noon, the course of 
the river is to the west ; the scenery is grand, 
with rapids and falls below, and walls above. 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 153 

beset with crags and pinnacles. Just at 
noon we wheel again to the south, and go 
into camp for dinner. 

While the cook is preparing it, Bradley, 
Captain Powell, and myself go up into a 
side canon, that comes in at this point. We 
enter through a very narrow passage, having 
to wade along the course of a Httle stream 
until a cascade interrupts our progress. 
Then we climb to the right, for a hundred 
feet, until we reach a little shelf, along which 
we pass, walking with gi-eat care, for it is 
narrow, until we pass around the fall. Here 
the gorge widens into a spacious, sky roofed 
chamber. In the farther end is a beautiful 
grove of cottonwoods, and between us and 
the cottonwoods the little stream widens out 
into three clear lakelets, with bottoms of 
smooth rock. Beyond the cottonwoods, the 
brook tumbles, in a series of white, shining 
cascades, from heights that seem immeasura- 
ble. Turning around, we can look through 
the cleft through which we came, and see 
the river, with towering walls beyond. 



154 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

What a chamber for a resting place is this! 
hewn from the sohd rock; the heavens for 
a ceihng; cascade fountains within; a grove 
in the conservatory, clear lakelets for a re- 
freshing bath, and an outlook through the 
doorway on a raging river, with chffs and 
mountains beyond. 

Our way, after dinner, is through a gorge, 
grand beyond description. The walls are 
nearly vertical; the river broad and swift, 
but free from rocks and falls. From the 
edge of the water to the brink of the cliffs 
it is one thousand six hundred to one thou- 
sand eight hundred feet. At this great 
depth, the river rolls in solemn majesty. 
The cliffs are reflected from the more quiet 
river, and we seem to be in the depths of 
the earth, and yet can look down into the 
waters that reflect a bottomless abyss. We 
arrive, early in the afternoon, at the head of 
more rapids and falls, but, wearied with past 
work, we determine to rest, so go into camp, 
and the afternoon and evening are spent by 
the men in discussing the probabilities of 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 155 

sucessfully navigating the river below. The 
barometric records are examined, to see what 
descent we have made since we left the mouth 
of the Grand, and what descent since we 
left the Pacific Railroad, and what fall there 
yet must be to the river, ere we reach the end 
of the great canons. The conclusion to 
which the men arrive seems to be about this : 
that there are great descents yet to be made, 
but, if they are distributed in rapids and 
short falls, as they have been heretofore, we 
will be able to overcome them. But, may 
be, we shall come to a fall in these canons 
which we cannot pass, where the walls rise 
from the water's edge, so that we cannot 
land, and where the water is so swift that 
we cannot return. Such places have been 
found, except that the falls were not so 
great but that we could run them with safety. 
How will it be in the future ! So they specu- 
late over the serious probabilities in jesting 
mood, and I hear Sumner remark, ''My idea 
is, we had better go slow, and learn to ped- 
dle." 



156 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

July 24. — We examine the rapids below. 
Large rocks have fallen from the walls — 
great, angular blocks, which have rolled 
down the talus, and are strewn along the 
channel. We are compelled to make three 
portages in succession, the distance being 
less than three-fourths of a mile, with a fall 
of seventy-five feet. Among these rocks, 
in chutes, whirlpools, and great waves, with 
rushing breakers and foam, the water finds 
its way, still tumbling down. We stop for 
the night, only three- fourths of a mile be- 
low the last camp. A very hard day's work 
has been done, and at evening I sit on a 
rock by the edge of the river, to look at the 
water, and listen to its roar* Hours ago, 
deep shadows had settled into the canon 
as the sun passed behind the cliffs. Now, 
doubtless, the sun has gone down, for we 
can see no glint of light on the crags above. 
Darkness is coming on. The waves are roll- 
ing, with crests of foam so white they seem 
almost to give a light of their own. Near by, 
a chute of water strikes the foot of a great 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 157 

block of limestone, fifty feet high, and the 
waters pile up against it, and roll back. 
Where there are sunken rocks, the water 
heaps up in mounds, or even in cones. At 
a point where rocks come very near the sur- 
face, the water forms a chute above, strikes, 
and is shot up ten or fifteen feet, and piles 
back in gentle curves, as in a fountain; and 
on the river tumbles and rolls. 

July 25. — Still more rapids and falls to- 
day. In one, the Emma Dean is caught 
in a whirlpool, and set spinning about; and 
it is with great difficulty we are able to get 
out of it, with the loss of an oar. At noon, 
another is made; and on we go, running 
some of the rapids, letting down with lines 
past others, and making two short portages. 
We camp on the right bank, hungry and 
tired. 

July 26. — We run a short distance this 
morning, and go into camp, to make oars 
and repair boats and barometers. The 
walls of the canon have been steadily increas- 
ing in altitude to this point, and now they 



168 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

are more than two thousand feet high. In 
many places, they are vertical from the 
water's edge; in others, there is a talus be- 
tween the river and the foot of the cliffs, and 
they are often broken down by side canons. 
It is probable that the river is nearly as low 
now as it is ever found. High water mark 
can be observed forty, fifty, sixty, or a hun- 
dred feet above its present stage. Sometimes 
logs and drift wood are seen wedged into the 
crevice overhead, where floods have carried 
them. 

About ten o'clock, Powell, Bradley, How- 
land, Hall, and myself start up a side canon 
to the east. We soon come to pools of 
water; then to a brook, which is lost in the 
sands below; and, passing up the brook, we 
find the canon narrows, the walls close in, 
are often overhanging, and at last we find 
ourselves in a vast amphitheater, with a pool 
of deep, clear, cold water on the bottom. 
At first, our way seems cut off ; but we soon 
discover a little shelf, along which we climb, 
and, passing beyond the pool, walk a hun- 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 159 

dred yards or more, turn to the right, and 
find ourselves in another dome-shaped am- 
phitheater. There is a winding cleft at the 
top, reaching out to the country above, 
nearly two thousand feet overhead. The 
rounded, basin shaped bottom is filled with 
water to the foot of the walls. There is 
no shelf by which we can pass around the 
foot. If we swim across, we meet with a 
face of rock hundreds of feet high, over 
which a little rill glides, and it will be im- 
possible to climb. So we can go no further 
up this cajQon. Then we turn back, and 
examine the walls on either side carefully, 
to discover, if possible, some way of climbing 
out. 

In this search, every man takes his own 
course, and we are scattered. I almost aban- 
don the idea of getting out, and am engaged 
in searching for fossils, when I discover, on 
the north, a broken place, up which it may 
be possible for me to climb. The way, for 
a distance, is up a slide of rocks; then up 
an irregular amphitheater, on points that 



160 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

form steps and give handhold, and then I 
reach a httle shelf, along which I walk, and 
discover a vertical fissure, parallel to the 
face of the wall, and reaching to a higher 
shelf. This fissure is narrow, and I try to 
climb up to the bench, which is about forty 
feet overhead. I have a barometer on my 
back, which rather impedes my climbing. 
The walls of the fissure are of smooth lime- 
stone, offering neither foot nor hand hold. 
So I support myself by pressing my back 
against one wall and my knees against the 
other, and, in this way, lift my body, in a 
shuffling manner, a few inches at a time, 
until I have, perhaps, made twenty-five feet 
of the distance, when the crevice widens a 
little, and I cannot press my knees against 
the rocks in front with sufficient power to 
give me support in lifting my body, and I 
try to go back. This I cannot do without 
falling. So I struggle along side wise, 
farther into the crevice, where it narrows. 
But by this time my muscles are exhausted, 
and I cannot climb longer; so I move still 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 161 

a little farther into the crevice, where it is 
so narrow and wedging that I can lie in it, 
and there I rest. 

Five or ten minutes of this relief, and up 
once more I go, and reach the bench above. 
On this I can walk for a quarter of a mile, 
till I come to a place where the wall is again 
broken down, so that I can climb up still 
farther, and in an hour I reach the summit. 
I hang up my barometer, to give it a few 
minutes' time to settle, and occupy myself 
in collecting resin from the pinon pines, 
which are found in great abundance. One 
of the principal objects in making this climb 
was to get this resin, for the purpose of 
smearing our boats; but I have with me no 
means of carrying it down. The day is very 
hot, and my coat was left in camp, so I have 
no linings to tear out. Then it occurs to 
me to cut off the sleeve of my shirt, tie it 
up at one end, and in this little sack I collect 
about a gallon of pitch. 

After taking observations for altitude, I 
wander back on the rock, for an hour or 



162 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

two, when suddenly I notice that a storm 
is coming from the south. I seek a shelter 
in the rocks; but when the storm bursts, it 
comes down as a flood from the heavens, not 
with gentle drops at first, slowly increasing 
in quantity, but as if suddenly poured out. 
I am thoroughly drenched, and almost 
washed away. It lasts not more than half 
an hour, when the clouds sweep by to the 
north, and I have sunshine again. 

In the meantime, I have discovered a bet- 
ter way of getting down, and I start for 
camp, making the greatest haste possible. 
On reaching the bottom of the side canon, 
I find a thousand streams rolling down the 
cliffs on every side, carrying with them red 
sand ; and these all unite in the canon below, 
in one great stream of red mud. 

Traveling as fast as I can run, I soon reach 
the foot of the stream, for the rain did not 
reach the lower end of the canon, and the 
water is running down a dry bed of sand; 
and, although it comes in waves, several feet 
high and fifteen or twenty feet in width. 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 163 

the sands soak it up, and it is lost. But 
wave follows wave, and rolls along, and is 
swallowed up; and still the floods come on 
from above. I find that I can travel faster 
than the stream; so I hasten to camp, and 
tell the men there is a river coming down 
the canon. We carry our camp equipage 
hastily from the bank, to where we think it 
will be above the water. Then we stand by, 
and see the river roll on to join the Colo- 
rado. Great quantities of gypsum are 
found at the bottom of the gorge ; so we name 
it Gypsum Canon. 

July 27. — ^We have more rapids and falls 
until noon; then we come to a narrow place 
in the canon, with vertical walls for sev- 
eral hundred feet, above which are steep 
steps and sloping rocks back to the summits. 
The river is very narrow, and we make our 
way with great care and much anxiety, hug- 
ging the wall on the left, and carefully ex- 
amining the way before us. 

Late in the afternoon, we pass to the left, 
around a sharp point, which is somewhat 



164 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

broken down near the foot, and discover a 
flock of mountain sheep on the rocks, more 
than a hundred feet above us. We quickly 
land in a cove, out of sight, and away go 
all the hunters with their guns, for the sheep 
have not discovered us. Soon, we hear fir- 
ing, and those of us who have remained in 
the boats climb up to see what success, the 
hunters have had. One sheep has been 
killed, and two of the men are still pursuing 
them. In a few minutes, we hear firing 
again, and the next moment down come the 
flock, clattering over the rocks, within 
twenty yards of us. One of the hunters 
seizes his gun, and brings a second sheep 
down, and the next minute the remainder 
of the flock is lost behind the rocks. We 
all give chase; but it is impossible to follow 
their tracks over the naked rock, and we 
see them no more. Where they went out 
of this rock walled canon is a mystery, for 
we can see no way of escape. Doubtless, 
if we could spare the time for the search, 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 165 

we could find some gulch up which they 
ran. 

We lash our prizes to the deck of one of 
the boats, and go on for a short distance; 
but fresh meat is too tempting for us, and we 
stop early to have a feast. And a feast it 
is! Two fine, young sheep. We care not 
for bread, or beans, or dried apples to-night ; 
coffee and mutton is all we ask. 

July 28. — ^We make two portages this 
morning, one of them very long. During 
the afternoon we run a chute, more than 
half a mile in length, narrow and rapid. 
This chute has a floor of marble; the rocks 
dip in the direction in which we are going, 
and the fall of the stream conforms to the 
inclination of the beds ; so we float on water 
that is gliding down an inclined plane. At 
the foot of the chute, the river turns sharply 
to the right, and the water rolls up against 
a rock which, from above, seems to stand 
directly athwart its course. As we approach 
it, we pull with all our power to the right. 



166 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

but it seems impossible to avoid being car- 
ried headlong against the cliff, and we are 
carried up high on the waves — not against 
the rocks, for the rebounding water strikes 
us, and we are beaten back, and pass on with 
safety, except that we get a good drench- 
ing. 

After this, the walls suddenly close in, so 
that the canon is narrower than we have 
ever known it. The water fills it from wall 
to wall, giving us no landing place at the 
foot of the cliff; the river is very swift, the 
canon is very tortuous, so that we can see 
but a few hundred yards ahead; the walls 
tower over us, often overhanging so as to 
almost shut out the light. I stand on deck, 
watching with intense anxiety, lest this may 
lead us into some danger ; but we glide along, 
with no obstruction, no falls, no rocks, and, 
in a mile and a half, emerge from the narrow 
gorge into a more open and broken portion 
of the canon. Now that it is past, it seems 
a very simple thing indeed to run through 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 167 

such a place, but the fear of what might be 
ahead made a deep impression on us. 

At three o'clock we arrive at the foot of 
Cataract Canon. Here a long canon valley 
comes down from the east, and the river turns 
sharply to the west in a continuation of the 
line of the lateral valley. In the bend on 
the right, vast numbers of crags, and pinna- 
cles, and tower shaped rocks are seen. We 
call it Mille Crag Bend. 

And now we wheel into another canon, on 
swift water, unobstructed by rocks. This 
new canon is very narrow and very straight, 
with walls vertical below and terraced 
above. The brink of the cliff is 1,300 feet 
above the water, where we enter it, but the 
rocks dip to the west, and, as the course of 
the canon is in that direction, the walls are 
seen to slowly decrease in altitude. Float- 
ing down this narrow channel, and looking 
out through the canon crevice away in the 
distance, the river is seen to turn again to the 
left, and beyond this point, away many miles, 



168 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

a great mountain is seen. Still floating 
down, we see other mountains, now to the 
right, now on the left, until a great moun- 
tain range is unfolded to view. We name 
this Narrow Canon, and it terminates at the 
bend of the river below. 

As we go do^vn to this point, we discover 
the mouth of a stream, which enters from the 
right. Into this our little boat is turned. 
One of the men in the boat following, see- 
ing what we have done, shouts to Dunn, 
asking if it is a trout-stream. Dunn replies, 
much disgusted, that it is "a dirty devil," 
and by this name the river is to be known 
hereafter.* The water is exceedingly 
muddy, and has an unpleasant odor. 

Some of us go out for half a mile, and 
chmb a butte to the north. The course of 
the Dirty Devil River can be traced for 
many miles. It comes down through a very 
narrow canon, and beyond it, to the south- 
west, there is a long line of cliffs, with a 
broad terrace, or bench, between it and the 

* Powell afterwards renamed it Fr6mont River. (Ed.) 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 169 

brink of the canon, and beyond these cliffs 
is situated the range of mountains seen as 
we came down Narrow Canon. 

Looking up the Colorado, the chasm 
through which it runs can be seen, but we 
cannot look down on its waters. The whole 
country is a region of naked rock, of many 
colors, with cliffs and buttes about us, and 
towering mountains in the distance. 

July 29. — We enter a canon to-day, with 
low, red walls. A short distance below its 
head we discover the ruins of an old build- 
ing, on the left wall. There is a narrow 
plain between the river and the wall just 
here, and on the brink of a rock two hun- 
dred feet high stands this old house. Its 
walls are of stone, laid in mortar, with much 
regularity. It was probably built three 
stories high; the lower story is yet almost 
intact ; the second is much broken down, and 
scarcely anything is left of the third. Great 
quantities of flint chips are found on the 
rocks near by, and many arrow heads, some 
perfect, others broken; and fragments of 



170 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

pottery are strewn about in great profusion. 
On the face of the cHff, under the building, 
and along down the river, for two or three 
hundred yards, there are many etchings. 
Two hours are given to the examination of 
these interesting ruins, then we run down 
fifteen miles farther, and discover another 
group. The principal building was situ- 
ated on the summit of the hill. A part of 
the walls are standing, to the height of eight 
or ten feet, and the mortar yet remains, in 
some places. The house was in the shape 
of an L, with five rooms on the ground 
floor, one in the angle, and two in each ex- 
tension. In the space in the angle, there is 
a deep excavation. From what we know 
of the people in the province of Tusayan, 
who are, doubtless, of the same race as the 
former inhabitants of these ruins, we con- 
clude that this was a "kiva," or underground 
chamber, in which their religious ceremonies 
were performed. 

We leave these ruins, and run down two 
or three miles, and go into camp about mid- 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 171 

afternoon. And now I climb the wall and 
go out into the back country for a walk. 

The sandstone, through which the canon 
is cut, is red and homogeneous, being the 
same as that through which Labyrinth 
runs. The smooth, naked rock stretches 
out on either side of the river for many miles, 
but curiously carved mounds and cones are 
scattered everywhere, and deep holes are 
worn out. Many of these pockets are filled 
with water. In one of these holes, or wells, 
twenty feet deep, I find a tree growing. 
The excavation is so naiTOW that I can step 
from its brink to a limb on the tree, and 
descend to the bottom of the well down a 
growing ladder. Many of these pockets are 
pot-holes, being found in the courses of little 
rills, or brooks, that run during the rains 
which occasionally fall in this region; and 
often a few harder rocks, which evidently 
assisted in their excavation, can be found in 
their bottoms. Others, which are shallower, 
are not so easily explained. Perhaps they 
are found where softer spots existed in the 



172 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

sandstone, places that yielded more readily 
to atmospheric degradation, and where the 
loose sands were carried away by the winds. 
Just before sundown, I attempt to cHmb 
a rounded eminence, from which I hope to 
obtain a good outlook on the surrounding 
country. It is formed of smooth mounds, 
piled one above another. Up these I climb, 
winding here and there, to find a practicable 
way, until near the summit they become too 
steep for me to proceed. I search about, a 
few minutes, for a more easy way, when I 
am surprised at finding a stairway, evidently 
cut in the rock by hands. At one place, 
where there is a vertical wall of ten or twelve 
feet, I find an old, ricketty ladder. It may 
be that this was a watch-tower of that ancient 
people whose homes we have found in ruins. 
On many of the tributaries of the Colorado 
I have heretofore examined their deserted 
dwelhngs. Those that show evidences of 
being built during the latter part of their 
occupation of the country, are, usually, 
placed on the most inaccessible cliffs. Some- 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 17S 

times, the mouths of caves have been walled 
across, and there are many other evidences 
to show their anxiety to secure defensible 
positions. Probably the nomadic tribes 
were sweeping down upon them, and they 
resorted to these cliffs and canons for safety. 
It is not unreasonable to suppose that this 
orange mound was used as a watch-tower. 
Here I stand, where these now lost people 
stood centuries ago, and look over this 
strange country. I gaze off to great moun- 
tains, in the northwest, which are slowly cov- 
ered by the night until they are lost, and 
then I return to camp. It is no easy task 
to find my way down the wall in the dark- 
ness, and I clamber about until it is nearly 
midnight, before I arrive. 

July 30. — We make good progress to- 
day, as the water, though smooth, is swift. 
Sometimes, the canon walls are vertical to 
the top ; sometimes, they are vertical below, 
and have a mound covered slope above; in 
other places, the slope, with its mounds, 
comes down to the water's edge. 



174 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Still proceeding on our way, we find the 
orange sandstone is cut in two by a group 
of firm, calcareous strata, and the lower bed 
is underlaid by soft gypsiferous shales. 
Sometimes, the upper homogeneous bed is 
a smooth, vertical wall, but usually it is 
carved with mounds, with gently meander- 
ing valley lines. The lower bed, yielding 
to gravity, as the softer shales below work 
out into the river, breaks into angular sur- 
faces, often having a columnar appearance. 
One could almost imagine that the walls had 
been carved with a purpose, to represent 
giant architectural forms. 

In the deep recesses of the walls, we find 
springs, with mosses and ferns on the mois- 
tened sandstone. 

July 31. — We have a cool, pleasant ride 
to-day, through this part of the canon. The 
walls are steadily increasing in altitude, the 
curves are gentle, and often the river sweeps 
by an arc of vertical wall, smooth and un- 
broken, and then by a curve that is varie- 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 175 

gated by royal arches, mossy alcoves, deep, 
beautiful glens, and painted grottos. 

Soon after dinner, we discover the mouth 
of the San Juan, where we camp. The re- 
mainder of the afternoon is given to hunting 
some way by which we can chmb out of the 
canon; but it ends in failure. 

August 1. — We drop down two miles this 
morning, and go into camp again. There 
is a low, willow covered strip of land along 
the walls on the east. Across this we walk, 
to explore an alcove which we see from the 
river. On entering, we find a little grove 
of box-elder and cottonwood trees; and, 
turning to the right, we find ourselves in a 
vast chamber, carved out of the rock. At 
the upper end there is a clear, deep pool of 
water, bordered with verdure. Standing by 
the side of this, we can see the grove at the 
entrance. The chamber is more than two 
hundred feet high, five hundred feet long, 
and two hundred feet wide. Through the 
ceihng, and on through the rocks for a thou- 



176 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

sand feet above, there is a narrow, winding 
skjdight ; and this is all carved out by a little 
stream, which only runs during the few 
showers that fall now and then in this arid 
country. The waters from the bare rocks 
back of the canon, gathering rapidly into a 
small channel, have eroded a deep side 
canon, through which they run, until they 
fall into the farther end of this chamber. 
The rock at the ceiling is hard, the rock be- 
low, very soft and friable; and, having cut 
through the upper harder portion down into 
the lower and softer, the stream has washed 
out these friable sandstones; and thus the 
chamber has been excavated. 

Here we bring our camp. When "Old 
Shady" sings us a song at night, we are 
pleased to find that this hollow in the rock 
is filled with sweet sounds. It was doubt- 
less made for an academy of music by its 
storm born architects; so we name it Music 
Temple. 

August 2. — We still keep our camp in 
Music Temple to-day. 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 177 

I wish to obtain a view of the adjacent 
country, if possible; so, early in the morning, 
the men take me across the river, and I pass 
along by the foot of the cliff half a mile up 
stream, and then climb first up broken ledges, 
then two or three hundred yards up a smooth, 
sloping rock, and then pass out on a narrow 
ridge. Still, I find I have not attained an 
altitude from which I can overlook the re- 
gion outside of the canon; and so I descend 
into a little gulch, and climb again to a 
higher ridge, all the way along naked sand- 
stone, and at last I reach a point of com- 
manding view. I can look several miles up 
the San Juan, and a long distance up the 
Colorado; and away to the northwest I can 
see the Henry Mountains; to the northeast, 
the Sierra La Sal; to the southeast, unknown 
mountains; and to the southwest, the mean- 
dering of the canon. Then I return to the 
bank of the river. 

We sleep again in Music Temple. 

August 3. — Start early this morning. 
The features of this canon are greatly di- 



178 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

versified. Still vertical walls at times. 
These are usually found to stand above great 
curves. The river, sweeping around these 
bends, undermines the cliffs in places. 
Sometimes, the rocks are overhanging; in 
other curves, curious, narrow glens are 
found. Through these we climb, by a rough 
stairway, perhaps several hundred feet, to 
where a spring bursts out from under an 
overhanging cliff, and where cottonwoods 
and willows stand, while, along the curves of 
the brooklet, oaks grow, and other rich vege- 
tation is seen, in marked contrast to the gen- 
eral appearance of naked rock. We call 
these Oak Glens. 

Other wonderful features are the many side 
canons or gorges that we pass. Sometimes, 
we stop to explore these for a short distance. 
In some places, their walls are much nearer 
each other above than below, so that they 
look somewhat like caves or chambers in the 
rocks. Usually, in going up such a gorge, 
we find beautiful vegetation ; but our way is 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 179 

often cut off by deep basins, or pot-holes, as 
they are called. 

On the walls, and back many miles into 
the country, numbers of monument shaped 
buttes are observed. So we have a curious 
ensemble of wonderful features— carved 
walls, royal arches, glens, alcove gulches, 
mounds, and monuments. From which of 
these features shall we select a name? We 
decide to call it Glen Canon. 

Past these towering monuments, past 
these mounded billows of orange sandstone, 
past these oak set glens, past these fern 
decked alcoves, past these mural curves, we 
ghde hour after hour, stopping now and 
then, as our attention is arrested bv some 
new wonder, until we reach a point which is 
historic. 

In the year 1776, Father Escalante, a 
Spanish priest, made an expedition from 
Santa Fe to the northwest, crossing the 
Grand and Green, and then passing down 
along the Wasatch Mountains and the south- 



180 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ern plateaus, until he reached the Rio Vir- 
gen. His intention was to cross to the Mis- 
sion of Monterey ; but, from information re- 
ceived from the Indians, he decided that the 
route was impracticable. Not wishing to 
return to Santa Fe over the circuitous route 
by which he had just traveled, he attempted 
to go by one more direct, and which led him 
across the Colorado, at a point known as 
El vado de los Padres, From the descrip- 
tion which we have read, we are enabled to 
determine the place. A little stream comes 
down through a very narrow side canon from 
the west. It was down this that he came, 
and our boats are lying at the point where 
the ford crosses. A well beaten Indian trail 
is seen here yet. Between the cliff and the 
river there is a little meadow. The ashes 
of many camp fires are seen, and the bones 
of numbers of cattle are bleaching on the 
grass. For several years the Navajos have 
raided on the Mormons that dwell in the val- 
leys to the west, and they doubtless cross 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 181 

frequently at this ford with their stolen cat- 
tle. 

August 4. — To-day the walls grow higher, 
and the canon much narrower. Monuments 
are still seen on either side; beautiful glens, 
and alcoves, and gorges, and side canons are 
yet found. After dinner, we find the river 
making a sudden turn to the northwest, and 
the whole character of the canon changed. 
The walls are many hundreds of feet higher, 
and the rocks are chiefly variegated shales 
of beautiful colors — creamy orange above, 
then bright vermilion, and below, purple and 
chocolate beds, with green and yellow sands. 
We run four miles through this, in a direc- 
tion a little to the west of north; wheel again 
to the west, and pass into a portion of the 
canon where the characteristics are more like 
those above the bend. At night we stop at 
the mouth of a creek coming in from the 
right, and suppose it to be the Paria, which 
was described to me last year by a Mormon 
missionary. 



18a FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Here the canon terminates abruptly in a 
line of cliffs, which stretches from either side 
across the river. 

August 5. — With some feeling of anxiety, 
we enter a new canon this morning. We 
have learned to closely observe the texture 
of the rock. In softer strata, we have a 
quiet river; in harder, we find rapids and 
falls. Below us are the limestones and hard 
sandstones, which we found in Cataract 
Canon. This bodes toil and danger. Be- 
sides the texture of the rocks, there is an- 
other condition which affects the character 
of the channel, as we have found by experi- 
ence. Where the strata are horizontal, the 
river is often quiet ; but, even though it may 
be very swift in places, no great obstacles are 
found. Where the rocks incline in the di- 
rection traveled, the river usually sweeps 
with great velocity, but still we have few rap- 
ids and falls. But where the rocks dip up 
stream, and the river cuts obliquely across 
the upturned formations, harder strata 
^bove, and softer below, we have rapids and 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 183 

falls. Into hard rocks, and into rocks dip- 
ping up stream, we pass this morning, and 
start on a long, rocky, mad rapid. On the 
left there is a vertical rock, and down by this 
chff and around to the left we ghde, just 
tossed enough by the waves to appreciate 
the rate at which we are traveling. 

The canon is narrow, with vertical walls, 
which gradually grow higher. More rap- 
ids and falls are found. We come to one 
with a drop of sixteen feet, around which 
we make a portage, and then stop for din- 
ner. 

Then a run of two miles, and another por- 
tage, long and difficult ; then we camp for the 
night, on a bank of sand. 

August 6. — Canon walls, still higher and 
higher, as we go down through strata. There 
is a steep talus at the foot of the cliff, and, 
in some places, the upper parts of the walls 
are terraced. 

About ten o'clock we come to a place 
where the river occupies the entire channel, 
and the walls are vertical from the water's 



184 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

edge. We see a fall below, and row up 
against the cliff. There is a little shelf, or 
rather a horizontal crevice, a few feet over 
our heads. One man stands on the deck of 
the boat, another climbs on his shoulders, and 
then into the crevice. Then we pass him 
a hne, and two or three others, with myself, 
follow; then we pass along the crevice until 
it becomes a shelf, as the upper part, or roof, 
is broken off. On this we walk for a short 
distance, slowly climbing all the way, until 
we reach a point where the shelf is broken 
off, and we can pass no farther. Then we 
go back to the boat, cross the stream, and 
get some logs that have lodged in the rocks, 
bring them to our side, pass them along the 
crevice and shelf, and bridge over the broken 
place. Then we go on to a point over the 
falls, but do not obtain a satisfactory view. 
Then we climb out to the top of the wall, and 
walk along to find a point below the fall, 
from which it can be seen. From this point 
it seems possible to let down our boats, with 
lines, to the head of the rapids, and then 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 185 

make a portage ; so we return, row down by 
the side of the cliff, as far as we dare, and 
fasten one of the boats to a rock. Then we 
let down another boat to the end of its line 
beyond the first, and the third boat to the 
end of its line below the second, which brings 
it to the head of the fall, and under an over- 
hanging rock. Then the upper boat, in 
obedience to a signal, lets go ; we pull in the 
line, and catch the nearest boat as it comes, 
and then the last. Then we make a portage, 
and go on. 

We go into camp early this afternoon, at 
a place where it seems possible to climb out, 
and the evening is spent in "making observa- 
tions for time." 

August 7. — The almanac tells us that we 
are to have an eclipse of the sun to-day, so 
Captain Powell and myself start early, tak- 
ing our instruments with us, for the purpose 
of making observations on the eclipse, to 
determine our longitude. Arriving at the 
surmnit, after four hours' hard climbing, to 
attain 2,300 feet in height, we hurriedly build 



186 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

a platform of rocks, on which to place our 
instruments, and quietly wait for the eclipse ; 
but clouds come on, and rain falls, and sun 
and moon are obscured. 

Much disappointed, we start on our return 
to camp, but it is late, and the clouds make 
the night very dark. Still we feel our way 
down among the rocks with great care, for 
two or three hours, though making slow 
progress indeed. At last we lose our way, 
and dare proceed no farther. The rain 
comes down in torrents, and we can find no 
shelter. We can neither climb up nor go 
down, and in the darkness dare not move 
about, but sit and "weather out" the night. 

August 8. — Daylight comes, after a long, 
oh I how long a night, and we soon reach 
camp. 

After breakfast we start again, and make 
two portages during the forenoon. 

The limestone of this canon is often pol- 
ished, and makes a beautiful marble. Some- 
times the rocks are of many colors — white, 
gray, pink, and purple, with saffron tints. 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 187 

It is with very great labor that we make 
progress, meeting with many obstructions, 
running rapids, letting down our boats with 
lines, from rock to rock, and sometimes car- 
rying boats and cargoes around bad places. 
We camp at night, just after a hard portage, 
under an overhanging wall, glad to find shel- 
ter from the rain. We have to search for 
some time to find a few sticks of driftwood, 
just sufficient to boil a cup of coffee. 

The water sweeps rapidly in this elbow of 
river, and has cut its way under the rock, 
excavating a vast half circular chamber, 
which, if utilized for a theater, would give 
sitting to fifty thousand people. Objections 
might be raised against it, from the fact that, 
at high water, the floor is covered with a rag- 
ing flood. 

August 9. — And now, the scenery is on a 
grand scale. The walls of the canon, 2,500 
feet high, are of marble, of many beautiful 
colors, and often polished below by the 
waves, or far up the sides, where showers 
have washed the sands over the cliffs. 



188 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

At one place I have a walk, for more than 
a mile, on a marble pavement, all polished 
and fretted with strange devices, and em- 
bossed in a thousand fantastic patterns. 
Through a cleft in the wall the sun shines on 
this pavement, which gleams in iridescent 
beauty. 

I pass up into the cleft. It is very nar- 
row, with a succession of pools standing at 
higher levels as I go back. The water in 
these pools is clear and cool, coming down 
from springs. Then I return to the pave- 
ment, which is but a terrace or bench, over 
which the river runs at its flood, but left bare 
at present. Along the pavement, in many 
places, are basins of clear water, in strange 
contrast to the red mud of the river. At 
length I come to the end of this marble ter- 
race, and take again to the boat. 

Riding down a short distance, a beautiful 
view is presented. The river turns sharply 
to the east, and seems inclosed by a wall, set 
with a million brilliant gems. What can it 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 189 

mean? Every eye is engaged, every one 
wonders. On coming nearer, we find foun- 
tains bm^sting from the rock, high overhead, 
and the spray in the sunshine forms the 
gems which bedeck the wall. The rocks be- 
low the fountain are covered with mosses, 
and ferns, and many beautiful flowering 
plants. We name it Vasey's Paradise, in 
honor of the botanist who traveled with us 
last year. 

We pass many side canons to-day, that 
are dark, gloomy passages, back into the 
heart of the rocks that form the plateau 
through which this canon is cut. 

It rains again this afternoon. Scarcely 
do the first di^ops fall, when little rills run 
down the walls. As the storm comes on, 
the little rills increase in size, until great 
streams are formed. Although the walls of 
the canon are chiefly hmestone, the adjacent 
country is of red sandstone ; and now the wa- 
ters, loaded with these sands, come down in 
rivers of bright red mud, leaping over the 



190 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

walls in innumerable cascades. It is plain 
now how these walls are polished in many- 
places. 

At last, the storm ceases, and we go on. 
We have cut through the sandstones and 
limestones met in the upper part of the 
canon, and through one great bed of marble 
a thousand feet in thickness. In this, great 
numbers of caves are hollowed out, and carv- 
ings are seen, which suggest architectural 
forms, though on a scale so grand that archi- 
tectural terms belittle them. As this great 
bed forms a distinctive feature of the canon, 
we call it Marble Caiion. 

It is a peculiar feature of these walls, that 
many projections are set out into the river, 
as if the wall was buttressed for support. 
The walls themselves are half a mile high, 
and these buttresses are on a corresponding 
scale, jutting into the river scores of feet. 
In the recesses between these projections 
there are quiet bays, except at the foot of a 
rapid, when they are dancing eddies or whirl- 
pools. Sometimes these alcoves have caves 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 191 

at the back, giving them the appearance of 
great depth. Then other caves are seen 
above, forming vast, dome shaped chambers. 
The walls, and buttresses, and chambers are 
all of marble. 

The river is now quiet; the canon wider. 
Above, when the river is at its flood, the wa- 
ters gorge up, so that the difference between 
high and low water mark is often fifty or 
even seventy feet ; but here, high-water mark 
is not more than twenty feet above the pres- 
ent stage of the river. Sometimes there is 
a narrow flood plain between the water and 
the wall. 

Here we first discover mesquite shrubs, 
or small trees, with finely divided leaves and 
pods, somewhat like the locust. 

August 10. — Walls still higher; water, 
swift again. We pass several broad, ragged 
canons on our right, and up through these we 
catch glimpses of a forest clad plateau, miles 
away to the west. 

At two o'clock, we reach the mouth of the 
Colorado Chiquito. This stream enters 



192 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

through a canon, on a scale quite as grand 
as that of the Colorado itself. It is a very 
small river, and exceedingly muddy and salt. 
I walk up the stream three or four miles, 
this afternoon, crossing and recrossing where 
I can easily wade it. Then I climb several 
hundred feet at one place, and can see up the 
chasm, through which the river runs, for sev- 
eral miles. On my way back, I kill two rat- 
tlesnakes, and find, on my arrival, that an- 
other has been killed just at camp. 

August 11. — We remain at this point to- 
day for the purpose of determining the lati- 
tude and longitude, measuring the height of 
the walls, drying our rations, and repairing 
our boats. 

Captain Powell, early in the morning, 
takes a barometer, and goes out to climb a 
point between the two rivers. 

I walk down the gorge to the left at the 
foot of the cliff, climb to a bench, and dis- 
cover a trail, deeply worn in the rock. 
Where it crosses the side gulches, in some 
places, steps have been cut. I can see no 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 193 

evidence of its having been traveled for a 
long time. It was doubtless a path used by 
the people who inhabited this country an- 
terior to the present Indian races — the peo- 
ple who built the communal houses, of which 
mention has been made. 

I return to camp about three o'clock, and 
find that some of the men have discovered 
ruins, and many fragments of pottery ; also, 
etchings and hieroglyphics on the rocks. 

We find, to-night, on comparing the read- 
ings of the barometers, that the walls are 
about three thousand feet high — more than 
half a mile — an altitude difficult to appre- 
ciate from a mere statement of feet. The 
ascent is made, not by a slope such as is usu- 
ally found in climbing a mountain, but is 
much more abrupt — often vertical for many 
hundreds of feet — so that the impression is 
that we are at great depths ; and we look up 
to see but a little patch of sky. 

Between the two streams, above the Colo- 
rado Chiquito, in some places the rocks are 
broken and shelving for six or seven hundred 



194 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

feet; then there is a sloping terrace, which 
can only be climbed by finding some way up 
a gulch ; then, another terrace, and back, still 
another cliff. The summit of the cliff is 
three thousand feet above the river, as our 
barometers attest. 

Our camp is below the Colorado Chiquito, 
and on the eastern side of the canon. 

August 12. — The rocks above camp are 
rust colored sandstones and conglomerates. 
Some are very hard; others quite soft. 
These all lie nearly horizontal, and the beds 
of softer material have been washed out, and 
left the harder, thus forming a series of 
shelves. Long lines of these are seen, of 
varying thickness, from one or two to twenty 
or thirty feet, and the spaces between have 
the same variability. This morning, I spend 
two or three hours in climbing among these 
shelves, and then I pass above them, and go 
up a long slope, to the foot of the cliff, and 
try to discover some way by which I can 
reach the top of the wall; but I find my 
progress cut off by an amphitheater. Then, 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 195 

I wander away around to the left, up a little 
gulcli, and along benches, and climb, from 
time to time, until I reach an altitude of 
nearly two thousand feet, and can get no 
higher. From this point, I can look off to 
the west, up side canons of the Colorado, 
and see the edge of a great plateau, from 
which streams run down into the Colorado, 
and deep gulches, in the escarpment which 
faces us, continued by canons, ragged and 
flaring, and set with cliffs and towering 
crags, down to the river. I can see far up 
Marble Canon, to long lines of chocolate col- 
ored cliffs, and above these, the Vermilion 
Cliffs. I can see, also, up the Colorado Chi- 
quito, through a very ragged and broken 
canon, with sharp salients set out from the 
walls on either side, their points overlap- 
ping, so that a huge tooth of marble, on one 
side, seems to be set between two teeth on 
the opposite ; and I can also get glimpses of 
walls, standing away back from the river, 
while over my head are mural escarpments, 
not possible to be scaled. 



196 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Cataract Canon is forty-one miles long. 
The walls are 1,300 feet high at its head, 
and they gradually increase in altitude to a 
point about half-way down, where they are 
2,700 feet, and then decrease to 1,300 feet at 
the foot. Narrow Canon is nine and a half 
miles long, with walls 1,300 feet in height at 
the head, and coming down to the water at 
the foot. 

There is very little vegetation in this 
canon, or in the adjacent country. Just at 
the junction of the Grand and Green, there 
are a number of hackberry trees ; and along 
the entire length of Cataract Canon, the 
high-water line is marked by scattered trees 
of the same species. A few nut-pines and 
cedars are found, and occasionally a red-bud 
or judas tree; but the general aspect of the 
canons, and of the adjacent country, is that 
of naked rock. 

The distance through Glen Canon is 149 
miles. Its walls vary from two or three hun- 
dred to sixteen hundred feet. Marble 



GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 197 

Canon is 65y2 miles long. At its head, it is 
200 feet deep, and steadily increases in depth 
to its foot, where its walls are 3,500 feet 
high. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 

AUGUST 13.— We are now ready 
to start on our way down the 
Great Unknown. Our boats, tied 
to a common stake, are chafing each other, 
as they are tossed by the fretful river. 
They ride high and buoyant, for their loads 
are lighter than we could desire. We have 
but a month's rations remaining. The flour 
has been resifted through the mosquito net 
sieve; the spoiled bacon has been dried, and 
the worst of it boiled; the few pounds of 
dried apples have been spread in the sun, and 
reshrunken to their normal bulk; the sugar 
has all melted, and gone on its way down the 
river; but we have a large sack of coffee. 
The hghting of the boats has this advantage : 
they will ride the waves better, and we shall 

198 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 199 

have but little to carry when we make a por- 
tage. 

We are three-quarters of a mile in the 
depths of the earth, and the great river 
shrinks into insignificance, as it dashes its 
angry waves against the walls and cliffs, that 
rise to the world above; they are but puny 
ripples, and we but pigmies, running up and 
down the sands, or lost among the boulders. 

We have an unknown distance yet to run ; 
an unknown river yet to explore. What 
falls there are, we know not ; what rocks be- 
set the channel, we know not ; what walls rise 
over the river, we know not. Ah, well! we 
may conjecture many things. The men talk 
as cheerfully as ever; jests are bandied about 
freely this morning; but to me the cheer is 
somber and the jests are ghastly. 

With some eagerness, and some anxiety, 
and some misgiving, we enter the canon be- 
low, and are carried along by the swift water 
through walls which rise from its very edge. 
They have the same structure as we noticed 
yesterday — tiers of irregular shelves below, 



200 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

and, above these, steep slopes to the foot of 
marble cliffs. We run six miles in a little 
more than half an hour, and emerge into a 
more open portion of the canon, where high 
hills and ledges of rock intervene between 
the river and the distant walls. Just at the 
head of this open place the river runs across 
a dike ; that is, a fissure in the rocks, open to 
depths below, has been filled with eruptive 
matter, and this, on cooling, was harder than 
the rocks through which the crevice was 
made, and, when these were washed away, 
the harder volcanic matter remained as a 
wall, and the river has cut a gate-way 
through it several hundred feet high, and as 
many wide. As it crosses the wall, there is 
a fall below, and a bad rapid, filled with 
boulders of trap ; so we stop to make a por- 
tage. Then on we go, gliding by hills and 
ledges, with distant walls in view; sweeping 
past sharp angles of rock ; stopping at a few 
points to examine rapids, which we find can 
be run, until we have made another five miles, 
when we land for dinner. 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 201 

Then we let down with lines, over a long 
rapid, and start again. Once more the walls 
close in, and we find ourselves in a narrow 
gorge, the water again filling the channel, 
and very swift. With great care, and con- 
stant watchfulness, we proceed, making 
about four miles this afternoon, and camp in 
a cave. 

August 14. — At daybreak we walk down 
the bank of the river, on a little sandy beach, 
to take a view of a new feature in the canon. 
Heretofore, hard rocks have given us bad 
river; soft rocks, smooth water; and a series 
of rocks harder than any we have experi- 
enced sets in. The river enters the gran- 
ite!* 

We can see but a little way into the gran- 
ite gorge, but it looks threatening. 

After breakfast we enter on the waves. 
At the very introduction, it inspires awe. 
The canon is narrower than we have ever 
before seen it ; the water is swifter ; there are 

* Geologists would call these rocks metamorphic crystal- 
line schists, with dikes and beds of granite, but we will use 
the popular name for the whole series — granite. 



202 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

but few broken rocks in the channel ; but the 
walls are set, on either side, with pinnacles 
and crags; and sharp, angular buttresses, 
bristling with wind and wave polished spires, 
extend far out into the river. 

Ledges of rocks jut into the stream, their 
tops sometimes just below the surface, some- 
times rising few or many feet above; and 
island ledges, and island pinnacles, and 
island towers break the swift course of the 
stream into chutes, and eddies, and whirl- 
pools. We soon reach a place where a creek 
comes in from the left, and just below, the 
channel is choked with boulders, which have 
washed down this lateral canon and formed 
a dam, over which there is a fall of thirty or 
forty feet; but on the boulders we can get 
foothold, and we make a portage. 

Three more such dams are found. Over 
one we make a portage ; at the other two we 
find chutes, through which we can run. 

As we proceed, the granite rises higher, 
until nearly a thousand feet of the lower part 
of the walls are composed of this rock. 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 203 

About eleven o'clock we hear a great roar 
ahead, and approach it very cautiously. 
The sound grows louder and louder as we 
run, and at last we find ourselves above a 
long, broken fall, with ledges and pinnacles 
of rock obstructing the river. There is a 
descent of, perhaps, seventy-five or eighty 
feet in a third of a mile, and the rushing 
waters break into gi-eat waves on the 
rocks, and lash themselves into a mad, 
white foam. We can land just above, but 
there is no foot-hold on either side by 
which we can make a portage. It is nearly 
a thousand feet to the top of the granite, so 
it will be impossible to carry our boats 
around, though we can climb to the summit 
up a side gulch, and, passing along a mile or 
two, can descend to the river. This we find 
on examination; but such a portage would 
be impracticable for us, and we must run the 
rapid, or abandon the river. There is no 
hesitation. We step into our boats, push off 
and away we go, first on smooth but swift 
water, then we strike a glassy wave, and ride 



204f FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

to its top, down again into the trough, up 
again on a higher wave, and down and up 
on waves higher and still higher, until we 
strike one just as it curls back, and a breaker 
rolls over our little boat. Still, on we speed, 
shooting past projecting rocks, till the little 
boat is caught in a whirlpool, and spun 
around several times. At last we pull out 
again into the stream, and now the other 
boats have passed us. The open compart- 
ment of the Emma Dean is filled with water, 
and every breaker rolls over us. Hurled 
back from a rock, now on this side, now on 
that, we are carried into an eddy, in which we 
struggle for a few minutes, and are then out 
again, the breakers still rolling over us. Our 
boat is unmanageable, but she cannot sink, 
and we drift down another hundred yards, 
through breakers; how, we scarcely know. 
We find the other boats have turned into an 
eddy at the foot of the fall, and are waiting 
to catch us as we come, for the men have seen 
that our boat is swamped. They push out 
as we come near, and pull us in against the 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 205 

wall. We bail our boat, and on we go again. 

The walls, now, are more than a mile in 
height — a vertical distance difficult to appre- 
ciate. Stand on the south steps of the 
Treasury building in Washington, and look 
down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Capitol 
Park, and measure this distance overhead, 
and imagine cliffs to extend to that altitude^ 
and you will understand what I mean; or, 
stand at Canal Street, in New York, and 
look up Broadway to Grace Church, and you 
have about the distance; or, stand at Lake 
Street bridge, in Chicago, and look down 
to the Central Depot, and you have it again. 

A thousand feet of this is up through gran- 
ite crags, then steep slopes and perpendicu- 
lar cliffs rise, one above another, to the sum- 
mit. The gorge is black and narrow below, 
red and gray and flaring above, with crags 
and angular projections on the walls, which, 
cut in many places by side canons, seem to 
be a vast wilderness of rocks. Down in 
these grand, gloomy depths we glide, ever 
listening, for the mad waters keep up their 



^06 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

roar ; ever watching, ever peering ahead, for 
the narrow canon is winding, and the river is 
closed in so that we can see but a few hun- 
dred yards, and what there may be below we 
know not ; but we listen for falls, and watch 
for rocks, or stop now and then, in the bay 
of a recess, to admire the gigantic scenery. 
And ever, as we go, there is some new pin- 
nacle or tower, some crag or peak, some dis- 
tant view of the upper plateau, some strange 
shaped rock, or some deep, narrow side 
canon. Then we come to another broken 
fall, which appears more difficult than the 
one we ran this morning. 

A small creek comes in on the right, and 
the first fall of the water is over boulders, 
which have been carried down by this lateral 
stream. We land at its mouth, and stop for 
an hour or two to examine the fall. It seems 
possible to let down with lines, at least a, 
part of the way, from point to point, along 
the right hand wall. So we make a portage 
over the first rocks, and find footing on some 
boulders below. Then we let down one of 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 207 

the boats to the end of her line, when she 
reaches a corner of the projecting rock, to 
which one of the men clings, and steadies 
her, while I examine an eddy below. I think 
we can pass the other boats down by us, and 
catch them in the eddy. This is soon done 
and the men in the boats in the eddy pull us 
to their side. On the shore of this little eddy 
there is about two feet of gravel beach above 
the water. Standing on this beach, some of 
the men take the Kne of the httle boat and 
let it drift down against another projecting 
angle. Here is a little shelf, on which a man 
from my boat climbs, and a shorter line is 
passed to him, and he fastens the boat to the 
side of the chff . Then the second one is let 
down, bringing the hne of the third. When 
the second boat is tied up, the two men stand- 
ing on the beach above spring into the last 
boat, which is pulled up alongside of ours. 
Then we let down the boats, for twenty-five 
or thirty yards, by walking along the shelf, 
landing them again in the mouth of a side 
canon. Just below this there is another pile 



208 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

of boulders, over which we make another 
portage. From the foot of these rocks we 
can climb to another shelf, forty or fifty feet 
above the water. 

On this beach we camp for the night. We 
find a few sticks, which have lodged in the 
rocks. It is raining hard, and we have no 
shelter, but kindle a fire and have our sup- 
per. We sit on the rocks all night, wrapped 
in our ponchos, getting what sleep we can. 

August 15. — This morning we find we can 
let down for three or four hundred yards, 
and it is managed in this way: We pass 
along the wall, by climbing from projecting 
point to point, sometimes near the water's 
edge, at other places fifty or sixty feet above, 
and hold the boat with a line, while two men 
remain aboard, and prevent her from being 
dashed against the rocks, and keep the line 
from getting caught on the wall. In two 
hours we have brought them all down, as far 
as it is possible, in this way. A few yards 
below, the river strikes with great violence 
against a projecting rock, and our boats are 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 209 

pulled up in a little bay above. We must 
now manage to pull out of this, and clear the 
point below. The little boat is held by the 
bow obliquely up the stream. We jump in, 
and pull out only a few strokes, and sweep 
clear of the dangerous rock. The other 
boats follow in the same manner, and the 
rapid is passed. 

It is not easy to describe the labor of such 
navigation. We must prevent the waves 
from dashing the boats against the chffs. 
Sometimes, where the river is swift, we must 
put a bight of rope about a rock, to prevent 
her being snatched from us by a wave; but 
where the plunge is too great, or the chute 
too swift, we must let her leap, and catch her 
below, or the undertow will drag her under 
the falhng water, and she sinks. Where we 
wish to run her out a little way from shore, 
through a channel between rocks, we first 
throw in httle sticks of drift wood, and watch 
their course, to see where we must steer, so 
that she will pass the channel in safety. And 
so we hold, and let go, and pull, and hft, and 



210 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

ward, among rocks, around rocks, and over 
rocks. 

And now we go on through this solemn, 
mysterious way. The river is very deep, the 
canon very narrow, and still obstructed, so 
that there is no steady flow of the stream; 
but the waters wheel, and roll, and boil, and 
we are scarcely able to determine where we 
can go. Now, the boat is carried to the 
right, perhaps close to the wall; again, she 
is shot into the stream, and perhaps is 
dragged over to the other side, where, caught 
in a whirlpool, she spins about. We can 
neither land nor run as we please. The 
boats are entirely unmanageable; no order 
in their running can be preserved; now one, 
now another, is ahead, each crew laboring for 
its own preservation. In such a place we 
come to another rapid. Two of the boats 
run it perforce. One succeeds in landing, 
but there is no foot-hold by which to make 
a portage, and she is pushed out again into 
the stream. The next minute a great reflex 
wave fills the open compartment; she is 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 211 

water-logged, and drifts unmanageable. 
Breaker after breaker rolls over her, and one 
capsizes her. The men are thrown out; but 
they cling to the boat, and she drifts down 
some distance, alongside of us, and we are 
able to catch her. She is soon bailed out, 
and the men are aboard once more; but the 
oars are lost, so a pair from the Emma Dean 
is spared. Then for two miles we find 
smooth water. 

Clouds are playing in the canon to-day. 
Sometimes they roll down in great masses, 
filhng the gorge with gloom; sometimes they 
hang above, from wall to wall, and cover the 
canon with a roof of impending storm; and 
we can peer long distances up and down this 
canon corridor, with its cloud roof overhead, 
its walls of black granite, and its river bright 
with the sheen of broken waters. Then, a 
gust of wind sweeps down a side gulch, and, 
making a rift in the clouds, reveals the blue 
heavens, and a stream of sunlight pours in. 
Then, the clouds drift away into the dis- 
tance, and hang around crags, and peaks, 



21S FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

and pinnacles, and towers, and walls, and 
cover them with a mantle, that lifts from 
time to time, and sets them all in sharp re- 
lief. Then, baby clouds creep out of side 
canons, glide around points, and creep back 
again, into more distant gorges. Then, 
clouds, set in strata, across the canon, with 
intervening vista views, to cliffs and rocks 
beyond. The clouds are children of the 
heavens, and when they play among the 
rocks, they lift them to the region above. 

It rains! Rapidly little rills are formed 
above, and these soon grow into brooks, and 
the brooks gi'ow into creeks, and tumble over 
the walls in innumerable cascades, adding 
their wild music to the roar of the river. 
When the rain ceases, the rills, brooks, and 
creeks run dry. The waters that fall, dur- 
ing a rain, on these steep rocks, are gathered 
at once into the river ; they could scarcely be 
poured in more suddenly, if some vast spout 
ran from the clouds to the stream itself. 
When a storm bursts over the canon, a side 
gulch is dangerous, for a sudden flood may 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 213 

come, and the inpouring waters will raise the 
river, so as to hide the rocks before your 
eyes. 

Early in the afternoon, we discover a 
stream, entering from the north, a clear, 
beautiful creek, coming down through a gor- 
geous red canon. We land, and camp on 
a sand beach, above its mouth, under a great, 
overspreading tree, with willow shaped 
leaves. 

Aug list 16. — ^We must dry our rations 
again to-day, and make oars. 

The Colorado is never a clear stream, but 
for the past three or four days it has been 
raining much of the time, and the floods, 
which are poured over the walls, have 
brought down great quantities of mud, mak- 
ing it exceedingly turbid now. The little 
affluent, which we have discovered here, is a 
clear, beautiful creek, or river, as it would 
be termed in this western countr}^ where 
streams are not abundant. We have named 
one stream, away above, in honor of the 
great chief of the *'Bad Angels," and, as this 



ai4< FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

is in beautiful contrast to that, we conclude 
to name it "Bright Angel." 

Early in the morning, the whole party 
starts up to explore the Bright Angel River, 
with the special purpose of seeking timber, 
from which to make oars. A couple of 
miles above, we find a large pine log, which 
has been floated down from the plateau, 
probably from an altitude of more than six 
thousand feet, but not many miles back. On 
its way, if must have passed over many cata- 
racts and falls, for it bears scars in evidence 
of the rough usage which it has received. 
The men roll it on skids, and the work of 
sawing oars is commenced. 

This stream heads away back, under a line 
of abrupt cliffs, that terminates the plateau, 
and tumbles down more than four thousand 
feet in the first mile or two of its course ; then 
runs through a deep, narrow canon, until it 
reaches the river. 

Late in the afternoon I return, and go up 
a little gulch, just above this creek, about 
two hundred yards from camp, and discover 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 215 

the ruins of two or three old houses, which 
were originally of stone, laid in mortar. 
Only the foundations are left, but irregular 
blocks, of which the houses were constructed, 
lie scattered about. In one room I find an 
old mealing stone, deeply worn, as if it had 
been much used. A great deal of pottery 
is strewn around, and old trails, which in 
some places are deeply worn into the rocks, 
are seen. 

It is ever a source of wonder to us why 
these ancient people sought such inaccessible 
places for their homes. They were, doubt- 
less, an agricultural race, but there are no 
lands here, of any considerable extent, that 
they could have cultivated. To the west of 
Oraiby, one of the towns in the "Province 
of Tusayan," in Northern Arizona, the in- 
habitants have actually built little terraces 
along the face of the cliff, where a spring 
gushes out, and thus made their sites for 
gardens. It is possible that the ancient in- 
habitants of this place made their agricul- 
tural lands in the same way. But why should 



216 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

they seek such spots? Surely, the country 
was not so crowded with population as to 
demand the utilization of so barren a region. 
The only solution of the problem suggested 
is this : We know that, for a century or two 
after the settlement of Mexico, many expe- 
ditions were sent into the country now com- 
prised in Arizona and New Mexico, for the 
purpose of bringing the town building peo- 
ple under the dominion of the Spanish gov- 
ernment. JMany of their villages were de- 
stroyed, and the inhabitants fled to regions 
at that time unknown; and there are tradi- 
tions, among the people who inhabit the 
pueblos that still remain, that the canons 
were these unknown lands. Maybe these 
buildings were erected at that time ; sure it is 
that they have a much more modern appear- 
ance than the ruins scattered over Nevada, 
Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. 
Those old Spanish conquerors had a mon- 
strous greed for gold, and a wonderful lust 
for saving souls. Treasures they must have ; 
if not on earth, why, then, in heaven; and 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 217 

when they failed to find heathen temples, be- 
decked with silver, they propitiated Heaven 
by seizing the heathen themselves. There is 
yet extant a copy of a record, made by a 
heathen artist, to express his conception of 
the demands of the conquerors. In one part 
of the picture we have a lake, and near by 
stands a priest pouring water on the head of 
a native. On the other side, a poor Indian 
has a cord about his throat. Lines run from 
these two groups, to a central figure, a man 
with beard, and full Spanish panoply. The 
interpretation of the picture writing is this: 
"Be baptized, as this saved heathen; or be 
hanged, as that damned heathen." Doubt- 
less, some of these people preferred a third 
alternative, and, rather than be baptized or 
hanged, they chose to be imprisoned within 
these canon walls. 

August 17. — Our rations are still spoiling; 
the bacon is so badly injured that we are 
compelled to throw it away. By an acci- 
dent, this morning, the saleratus is lost over- 
board. We have now only musty flour 



SI 8 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

sufficient for ten days, a few dried apples, 
but plenty of coffee. We must make all 
haste possible. If we meet with difficulties, 
as we have done in the canon above, we may 
be compelled to give up the expedition, and 
try to reach the Mormon settlements to the 
north. Our hopes are that the worst places 
are passed, but our barometers are all so 
much injured as to be useless, so we have 
lost our reckoning in altitude, and know not 
how much descent the river has yet to make. 

The stream is still wild and rapid, and 
rolls through a narrow channel. We make 
but slow progress, often landing against a 
wall, and climbing around some point, where 
we can see the river below. Although very 
anxious to advance, we are determined to 
run with great caution, lest, by another acci- 
dent, we lose all our supplies. How pre- 
cious that little flour has become! We di- 
vide it among the boats, and carefully store 
it away, so that it can be lost only by the loss 
of the boat itself. 

We make ten miles and a half, and camp 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 219 

among the rocks, on the right. We have 
had rain, from time to time, all day, and 
have been thoroughly drenched and chilled; 
but between showers the sun shines with 
great power, and the mercury in our ther- 
mometers stands at 115°, so that we have 
rapid changes from great extremes, which 
are very disagreeable. It is especially cold 
in the rain to-night. The little canvas we 
have is rotten and useless; the rubber pon- 
chos, with which we started from Green 
River City, have all been lost ; more than half 
the party is without hats, and not one of us 
has an entire suit of clothes, and we have 
not a blanket apiece. So we gather drift 
wood, and build a fire; but after supper the 
rain, coming down in torrents, extinguishes 
it, and we sit up all night, on the rocks, shiv- 
ering, and are more exhausted by the night's 
discomfort than by the day's toil. 

August 18. — The day is employed in mak- 
ing portages, and we advance but two miles 
on our journey. Still it rains. 

While the men are at work making por- 



220 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

tages, I climb up the granite to its summit, 
and go away back over the rust colored sand- 
stones and greenish yellow shales, to the foot 
of the marble wall. I climb so high that the 
men and boats are lost in the black depths 
below, and the dashing river is a rippling 
brook; and still there is more canon above 
than below. All about me are interesting 
geological records. The book is open, and 
I can read as I run. All about me are grand 
views, for the clouds are playing again in 
the gorges. But somehow I think of the 
nine days' rations, and the bad river, and the 
lesson of the rocks, and the glory of the scene 
is but half seen. 

I push on to an angle, where I hope to get 
a view of the country beyond, to see, if pos- 
sible, what the prospect may be of our soon 
running through this plateau, or, at least, of 
meeting with some geological change that 
will let us out of the granite; but, arriving 
at the point, I can see below only a labyrinth 
of deep gorges. 

August 19. — Rain again this morning. 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 221 

Still we are in our granite prison, and the 
time is occupied until noon in making a long, 
bad portage. 

After dinner, in running a rapid, the 
pioneer boat is upset by a wave. We are 
some distance in advance of the larger boats, 
the river is rough and swift, and we are un- 
able to land, but cling to the boat, and are 
carried down stream, over another rapid. 
The men in the boats above see our trouble, 
but they are caught in whirlpools, and are 
spinning about in eddies, and it seems a long 
time before they come to our rehef . At last 
they do come; our boat is turned right side 
up, bailed out; the oars, which fortunately 
have floated along in company with us, are 
gathered up, and on we go, without even 
landing. 

Soon after the accident the clouds break 
away, and we have sunshine again. 

Soon we find a little beach, with just room 
enough to land. Here we camp, but there 
is no wood. Across the river, and a little 
way above, we see some drift wood lodged 



222 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

in the rocks. So we bring two boat loads 
over, build a huge fire, and spread everything 
to dry. It is the first cheerful night we have 
had for a week; a warm, drying fire in the 
midst of the camp, and a few bright stars in 
our patch of heavens overhead. 

August 20. — The characteristics of the 
canon change this morning. The river is 
broader, the walls more sloping, and com- 
posed of black slates, that stand on edge. 
These nearly vertical slates are washed out 
in places — that is, the softer beds are washed 
out between the harder, which are left stand- 
ing. In this way, curious little alcoves are 
formed, in which are quiet bays of water, 
but on a much smaller scale than the great 
bays and buttresses of Marble Canon. 

The river is still rapid, and we stop to let 
down with lines several times, but make 
greater progress as we run ten miles. We 
camp on the right bank. Here, on a ter- 
race of trap, we discover another group of 
ruins. There was evidently quite a village 
on this rock. Again we find meahng stones, 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 223 

and much broken pottery, and up in a little 
natural shelf in the rock, back of the ruins, 
we find a globular basket, that would hold 
perhaps a third of a bushel. It is badly 
broken, and, as I attempt to take it up, it 
falls to pieces. There are many beautiful 
flint chips, as if this had been the home of 
an old arrow maker. 

August 21. — We start early tliis morning, 
cheered by the prospect of a fine day, and 
encouraged, also, by the good run made yes- 
terday. A quarter of a mile below camp 
the river turns abruptly to the left, and be- 
tween camp and that point is very swift, run- 
ning down in a long, broken chute, and piling 
up against the foot of the cliff, where it turns 
to the left. We try to pull across, so as to 
go down on the other side, but the waters are 
swift, and it seems impossible for us to es- 
cape the rock below; but, in pulling across, 
the bow of the boat is turned to the farther 
shore, so that we are swept broadside down, 
and are prevented, by the rebounding waters, 
from striking against the wall. There we 



224 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

toss about for a few seconds in these billows, 
and are carried past the danger. Below, the 
river turns again to the right, the canon is 
very narrow, and we see in advance but a 
short distance. The water, too, is very 
swift, and there is no landing place. From 
around this curve there comes a mad roar, 
and down we are carried, with a dizzying 
velocity, to the head of another rapid. On 
either side, high over our heads, there are 
overhanging granite walls, and the sharp 
bends cut off our view, so that a few minutes 
will carry us into unknown waters. Away 
we go, on one long, winding chute. I stand 
on deck, supporting myself with a strap, fas- 
tened on either side to the gunwale, and the 
boat glides rapidly, where the water is 
smooth, or, striking a wave, she leaps and 
bounds like a thing of life, and we have a 
wild, exhilarating ride for ten miles, which 
we make in less than an hour. The excite- 
ment is so great that we forget the danger, 
until we hear the roar of the great fall be- 
low ; then we back on our oars, and are car- 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 225 

ried slowly toward its head, and succeed in 
landing just above, and find that we have to 
make another portage. At this we are en- 
gaged until some time after dinner. 

Just here we run out of the granite ! 

Ten miles in less than half a day, and lime- 
stone walls below. Good cheer returns ; we 
forget the storms, and the gloom, and cloud 
covered canons, and the black granite, and 
the raging river, and push our boats from 
shore in great glee. 

Though we are out of the granite, the river 
is still swift, and we wheel about a point 
again to the right, and turn, so as to head 
back in the direction from which we came, 
and see the granite again, with its narrow 
gorge and black crags; but we meet with 
no more great falls, or rapids. Still, we run 
cautiously, and stop, from time to time, to 
examine some places which look bad. Yet, 
we make ten miles this afternoon; twenty 
mJles, in all, to-day. 

August 22.— We come to rapids again, 
this morning, and are occupied several hours 



226 FIRST THROUGH G[RAND CANYON 

in passing them, letting the boats down, from 
rock to rock, with Hnes, for nearly half a 
mile, and then have to make a long portage. 
While the men are engaged in this, I climb 
the wall on the northeast, to a height of about 
two thousand five hundred feet, where I can 
obtain a good view of a long stretch of canon 
below. Its course is to the southwest. The 
walls seem to rise very abruptly, for two 
thousand five hundred or three thousand feet, 
and then there is a gently sloping terrace, 
on each side, for two or three miles, and again 
we find cliffs, one thousand five hundred or 
two thousand feet high. From the brink of 
these the plateau stretches back to the north 
and south, for a long distance. Away down 
the canon, on the right wall, I can see a 
group of mountains, some of which appear 
to stand on the brink of the canon. The ef- 
fect of the terrace is to give the appearance 
of a narrow winding valley, with high walls 
on either side, and a deep, dark, meandering 
gorge down its middle. It is impossible, 
from this point of view, to determine whether 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 227 

we have granite at the bottom, or not; but, 
from geological considerations, I conclude 
that we shall have marble walls below. 

After my return to the boats, we run an- 
other mile, and camp for the night. 

We have made but little over seven miles 
to-day, and a part of our flour has been 
soaked in the river again. 

August 23. — Our way to-day is again 
through marble walls. Now and then we 
pass, for a short distance, through patches 
of granite, like hills thrust up into the lime- 
stone. At one of these places we have to 
make another portage, and, taking advan- 
tage of the delay, I go up a little stream, to 
the north, wading it all the way, sometimes 
having to plunge in to my neck; in other 
places being compelled to swim across little 
basins that have been excavated at the foot 
of the falls. Along its course are many cas- 
cades and springs gushing out from the rocks 
on either side. Sometimes a cottonwood 
tree grows over the water. I come to one 
beautiful fall, of more than a hundred and 



228 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

fifty feet, and climb around it to the right, 
on the broken rocks. Still going up, I find 
the canon narrowing very much, being but 
fifteen or twenty feet wide; yet the walls 
rise on either side many hundreds of feet, 
perhaps thousands ; I can hardly tell. 

In some places the stream has not exca- 
vated its channel down vertically through the 
rocks, but has cut obliquely, so that one wall 
overhangs the other. In other places it is 
cut vertically above and obliquely below, or 
obliquely above and vertically below, so that 
it is impossible to see out overhead. But I 
can go no farther. The time which I esti- 
mated it would take to make the portage has 
almost expired, and I start back on a round 
trot, wading in the creek where I must, and 
plunging through basins, and find the men 
waiting for me, and away we go on the river. 

Just after dinner we pass a stream on the 
right, which leaps into the Colorado by a di- 
rect fall of more than a hundred feet, form- 
ing a beautiful cascade. There is a bed of 
very hard rock above, thirty or forty feet in 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO S29 

thickness, and much softer beds below. The 
hard beds above project many yards beyond 
the softer, wliich are washed out, forming a 
deep cave behind the fall, and the stream 
pours through a narrow crevice above into 
a deep pool below. Around on the rocks, 
in the cave like chamber, are set beautiful 
ferns, with delicate fronds and enameled 
stalks. The little frondlets have their points 
turned down, to form spore cases. It has 
very much the appearance of the Maiden's 
hair fern, but is much larger. This delicate 
foliage covers the rocks all about the foun- 
tain, and gives the chamber great beauty. 
But we have little time to spend in admira- 
tion, so on we go. 

We make fine progress this afternoon, 
carried along by a swift river, and shoot 
over the rapids, finding no serious obstruc- 
tions. 

The canon walls, for two thousand five 
hundred or three thousand feet, are very reg- 
ular, rising almost perpendicularly, but here 
and there set with narrow steps, and occa- 



230 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

sionally we can see away above the broad ter- 
race, to distant cliffs. 

We camp to-night in a marble cave, and 
find, on looking at our reckoning, we have 
run twenty-two miles. 

August 24. — The canon is wider to-day. 
The walls rise to a vertical height of nearly 
three thousand feet. In many places the 
river runs under a cliff, in great curves, form- 
ing amphitheaters, half dome shaped. 

Though the river is rapid, we meet with 
no serious obstructions, and run twenty 
miles. It is curious how anxious we are to 
make up our reckoning every time we stop, 
now that our diet is confined to plenty of 
coffee, ver}^ little spoiled flour, and very few 
dried apples. It has come to be a race for 
a dinner. Still, we make such fine progress, 
all hands are in good cheer, but not a mo- 
ment of daylight is lost. 

August 25. — We make twelve miles this 
morning, when we come to monuments of 
lava, standing in the river ; low rocks, mostly, 
but some of them shafts more than a hundred 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 231 

feet high. Going on down, three or four 
miles, we find them increasing in number. 
Great quantities of cooled lava and many 
cinder cones are seen on either side ; and then 
we come to an abrupt cataract. Just over 
the fall, on the right wall, a cinder cone, or 
extinct volcano, with a well defined crater, 
stands on the very brink of the canon. This, 
doubtless, is the one we saw two or three 
days ago. From this volcano vast floods of 
lava have been poured down into the river, 
and a stream of the molten rock has run up 
the canon, three or four miles, and down, we 
know not how far. Just where it poured 
over the canon wall is the fall. The whole 
north side, as far as we can see, is lined with 
the black basalt, and high up on the oppo- 
site wall are patches of the same material, 
resting on the benches, and filling old al- 
coves and caves, giving to the wall a spotted 
appearance. 

The rocks are broken in two, along a line 
which here crosses the river, and the beds, 
which we have seen coming down the canon 



232 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

for the last thirty miles, have dropped 800 
feet, on the lower side of the line, forming 
what geologists call a fault. The volcanic 
cone stands directly over the fissure thus 
formed. On the side of the river opposite, 
mammoth springs burst out of this crevice, 
one or two hundred feet above the river, 
pouring in a stream quite equal in volume to 
the Colorado Chiquito. 

This stream seems to be loaded with car- 
bonate of lime, and the water, evaporating, 
leaves an incrustation on the rocks; and this 
process has been continued for a long time, 
for extensive deposits are noticed, in which 
are basins, with bubbling springs. The wa- 
ter is salty. 

We have to make a portage here, which is 
completed in about three hours, and on we 
go. 

We have no difficulty as we float along, 
and I am able to observe the wonderful phe- 
nomena connected with this flood of lava. 
The canon was doubtless filled to a height 
of twelve or fifteen hundred feet, perhaps 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO S33 

by more than one flood. This would dam 
the water back; and in cutting through this 
great lava bed, a new channel has been 
formed, sometimes on one side, sometimes 
on the other. The cooled lava, being of 
firmer texture than the rocks of which the 
walls are composed, remains in some places; 
in others a narrow channel has been cut, leav- 
ing a line of basalt on either side. It is pos- 
sible that the lava cooled faster on the sides 
against the walls, and that the center ran 
out; but of this we can only conjecture. 
There are other places, where almost the 
whole of the lava is gone, patches of it only 
being seen where it has caught on the walls.. 
As we float down, we can see that it ran out 
into side canons. In some places this basalt 
has a fine, columnar structure, often in con- 
centric prisms, and masses of these concen- 
tric columns have coalesced. In some places, 
when the flow occurred, the canon was prob- 
ably at about the same depth as it is now, 
for we can see where the basalt has rolled out 
on the sands, and, what seems curious to me, 



234 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

the sands are not melted or metamorphosed 
to any appreciable extent. In places the 
bed of the river is of sandstone or limestone, 
in other places of lava, showing that it has 
all been cut out again where the sandstones 
and limestones appear; but there is a little 
yet left where the bed is of lava. 

What a conflict of water and fire there 
must have been here! Just imagine a river 
of molten rock, running down into a river of 
melted snow. What a seething and boiling 
of the waters; what clouds of steam rolled 
into the heavens! 

Thirty-five miles to-day. Hurrah! 

August 26. — The canon walls are steadily 
becoming higher as we advance. They are 
still bold, and nearly vertical up to the ter- 
race. We still see evidence of the eruption 
discovered yesterday, but the thickness of the 
basalt is decreasing, as we go down the 
stream; yet it has been reinforced at points 
by streams that have come down from vol- 
canoes standing on the terrace above, but 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 235 

which we cannot see from the river below. 
Since we left the Colorado Chiquito, we 
have seen no evidences that the tribe of In- 
dians inhabiting the plateaus on either side 
ever come down to the river; but about 
eleven o'clock to-day we discover an Indian 
garden, at the foot of the wall on the right, 
just where a httle stream, with a narrow 
flood plain, comes down through a side canon. 
Along the valley, the Indians have planted 
corn, using the water which burst out in 
springs at the foot of the cliff, for irrigation. 
The corn is looking quite well, but is not suf- 
ficiently advanced to give us roasting ears; 
but there are some nice, green squashes. We 
carry ten or a dozen of these on board our 
boats, and hurriedly leave, not willing to be 
caught in the robbery, yet excusing ourselves 
by pleading our great want. We run down 
a short distance, to where we feel certain no 
Indians can follow; and what a kettle of 
squash sauce we make! True, we have no 
salt with which to season it, but it makes a 



236 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

fine addition to our unleavened bread and 
coffee. Never was fruit so sweet as these 
stolen squashes. 

After dinner we push on again, making 
fine time, finding many rapids, but none so 
bad that we cannot run them with safety, 
and when we stop, just at dusk, and foot up 
our reckoning, we find we have run thirty- 
five miles again. 

Wliat a supper we make; unleavened 
bread, green squash sauce, and strong cof- 
fee. We have been for a few days on half 
rations, but we have no stint of roast squash. 

A few days like this, and we shall be out 
of prison. 

August 27. — This morning the river takes 
a more southerly direction. The dip of the 
rocks is to the north, and we are rapidly run- 
ning into lower formations. Unless our 
course changes, we shall very soon run again 
into the granite. This gives us some anx- 
iety. Now and then the river turns to the 
west, and excites hopes that are soon de- 
stroyed by another turn to the south. About 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 237 

nine o'clock we come to the dreaded rock. 
It is with no httle misgiving that we see the 
river enter these black, hard walls. At its 
very entrance we have to make a portage; 
then we have to let down with lines past some 
ugly rocks. Then we run a mile or two 
farther, and then the rapids below can be 
seen. 

About eleven o'clock we come to a place 
in the river where it seems much worse than 
any we have yet met in all its course. A lit- 
tle creek comes down from the left. We 
land first on the right, and clamber up over 
the granite pinnacles for a mile or two, but 
can see no way by which we can let down, 
and to run it would be sure destruction. 
After dinner we cross to examine it on the 
left. High above the river we can walk along 
on the top of the granite, which is broken off 
at the edge, and set with crags and pinnacles, 
so that it is very difficult to get a view of the 
river at all. In my eagerness to reach a 
point where I can see the roaring fall below, 
I go too far on the wall, and can neither ad- 



£38 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

vance nor retreat. I stand with one foot on 
a little projecting rock, and cling with my 
hand fixed in a little crevice. Finding I am 
caught here, suspended 400 feet above the 
river, into which I should fall if my footing 
fails, I call for help. The men come, and 
pass me a line, but I cannot let go of the 
rock long enough to take hold of it.* Then 
they bring two or three of the largest oars. 
All this takes time which seems very precious 
to me ; but at last they arrive. The blade of 
one of the oars is pushed into a little crevice 
in the rock beyond me, in such a manner that 
they can hold me pressed against the wall. 
Then another is fixed in such a way that I 
can step on it, and thus I am extricated. 

Still another hour is spent in examining 
the river from this side, but no good view of 
it is obtained, so now we return to the side 
that was first examined, and the afternoon is 
spent in clambering among the crags and 
pinnacles, and carefully scanning the river 

* It should be remembered that Major Powell had only- 
one arm. {Ed.) 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 239 

again. We find that the lateral streams 
have washed boulders into the river, so as to 
form a dam, over which the water makes a 
broken fall of eighteen or twenty feet; then 
there is a rapid, beset with rocks, for two or 
three hundred yards, while, on the other side, 
points of the wall project into the river. 
Then there is a second fall below ; how great, 
we cannot tell. Then there is a rapid, filled 
with huge rocks, for one or two hundred 
yards. At the bottom of it, from the right 
wall, a great rock projects quite half way 
across the river. It has a sloping surface 
extending up stream, and the water, coming 
down with all the momentum gained in the 
falls and rapids above, rolls up this inclined 
plane many feet, and tumbles over to the left. 
I decide that it is possible to let down over 
the first fall, then run near the right cliff to 
a point just above the second, where we can 
pull out into a little chute, and, having run 
over that in safety, we must pull with all our 
power across the stream, to avoid the great 
rock below. On my return to the boat, T 



240 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

announce to the men that we are to run it 
in the morning. Then we cross the river, 
and go into camp for the night on some 
rocks, in the mouth of the little canon. 

After supper Captain Howland asks to 
have a talk with me. We walk up the little 
creek a short distance, and I soon find that 
his object is to remonstrate against my de- 
termination to proceed. He thinks that we 
had better abandon the river here. Talking 
with him, I learn that his brother, William 
Dunn, and himself have determined to go 
no farther in the boats. So we return to 
camp. Nothing is said to the other men. 

For the last two days, our course has not 
been plotted. I sit down and do this now, 
for the purpose of finding where we are by 
dead reckoning. It is a clear night, and I 
take out the sextant to make observation for 
latitude, and find that the astronomic de- 
termination agrees very nearly with that of 
the plot — quite as closely as might be ex- 
pected, from a meridian observation on a 
planet. In a direct line, we must be about 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO Ul 

forty-five miles from the mouth of the Rio 
Virgen. If we can reach that point, we 
know that there are settlements up that river 
about twenty miles. This forty-five miles, 
in a direct hne, will probably be eighty or 
ninety in the meandering line of the river. 
But then we know that there is compara- 
tively open country for many miles above 
the mouth of the Virgen, which is our point 
of destination. 

As soon as I determine all this, I spread 
my plot on the sand, and wake Howland, 
who is sleeping down by the river, and show 
him where I suppose we are, and where sev- 
eral Mormon settlements are situated. 

We have another short talk about the mor- 
row, and he lies down again ; but for me there 
is no sleep. All night long, I pace up and 
down a little path, on a few yards of sand 
beach, along by the river. Is it wise to go 
on? I go to the boats again, to look at our 
rations. I feel satisfied that we can get over 
the danger immediately before us; what 
there may be below I know not. From our 



^42 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

outlook yesterday, on the cliffs, the canon 
seemed to make another great bend to the 
south, and this, from our experience hereto- 
fore, means more and higher granite walls. 
I am not sure that we can climb out of the 
canon here, and, when at the top of the wall, 
I know enough of the country to be certain 
that it is a desert of rock and sand, between 
this and the nearest Mormon town, which, on 
the most direct line, must be seventy-five 
miles away. True, the late rains have been 
favorable to us, should we go out, for the 
probabilities are that we shall find water still 
standing in holes, and, at one time, I almost 
conclude to leave the river. But for years I 
have been contemplating this trip. To leave 
the exploration unfinished, to say that there 
is a part of the canon which I cannot explore, 
having already almost accomplished it, is 
more than I am willing to acknowledge, and 
I determine to go on. 

I wake my brother, and tell him of How- 
land's determination, and he promises to 
stay with me; then I call up Hawkins, the 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO US 

cook, and he makes a like promise; then 
Sumner, and Bradley, and Hall, and they 
all agree to go on. 

August 28. — At last dayhght comes, and 
we have breakfast, without a word being 
said about the future. The meal is as sol- 
emn as a funeral. After breakfast, I ask 
the three men if they still think it best to 
leave us. The elder Howland thinks it is, 
and Dunn agrees with him. The younger 
Howland tries to persuade them to go on 
with the party, failing in which, he decides 
to go with his brother. 

Then we cross the river. The small boat 
is very much disabled, and unseaworthy. 
With the loss of hands, consequent on the 
departure of the three men, we shall not be 
able to run all of the boats, so I decide to 
leave my Emma Dean, 

Two rifles and a shotgun are given to the 
men who are going out. I ask them to help 
themselves to the rations, and take what they 
think to be a fair share. This they refuse 
to do, saying they have no fear but that they 



U4! FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

can get something to eat; but Billy, the 
cook, has a pan of biscuits prepared for din- 
ner, and these he leaves on a rock. 

Before starting, we take our barometers, 
fossils, the minerals, and some ammunition 
from the boat, and leave them on the rocks. 
We are going over this place as light as pos- 
sible. The three men help us lift our boats 
over a rock twenty-five or thirty feet high, 
and let them down again over the first fall, 
and now we are all ready to start. The last 
thing before leaving, I write a letter to my 
wife, and give it to Howland. Sumner 
gives him his watch, directing that it be sent 
to his sister, should he not be heard from 
again. The records of the expedition have 
been kept in duplicate. One set of these is 
given to Howland, and now we are ready. 
For the last time, they entreat us not to go 
on, and tell us that it is madness to set out 
in this place; that we can never get safely 
through it ; and, further, that the river turns 
again to the south into the granite, and a 
few miles of such rapids and falls will ex- 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 245 

haust our entire stock of rations, and then 
it will be too late to climb out. Some tears 
are shed; it is rather a solemn parting; each 
party thinks the other is taking the danger- 
ous course. 

My old boat left, I go on board of the 
3Iaid of the Canon. The three men climb a 
crag, that overhangs the river, to watch us 
off. The Maid of the Canon pushes out. 
We ghde rapidly along the foot of the wall, 
just grazing one great rock, then pull out a 
httle into the chute of the second fall, and 
plunge over it. The open compartment is 
filled when we strike the first wave below, 
but we cut through it, and then the men pull 
with all their power toward the left wall, 
and swing clear of the dangerous rock below 
all right. We are scarcely a minute in run- 
ning it, and find that, although it looked bad 
from above, we have passed many places that 
were worse. 

The other boat follows without more dif- 
ficulty. We land at the first practicable 
point below and fire our guns, as a signal 



246 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

to the men above that we have come over in 
safety. Here we remain a couple of hours, 
hoping that they will take the smaller boat 
and follow us. We are behind a curve in 
the canon, and cannot see up to where we 
left them, and so we wait until their coming 
seems hopeless, and push on.* 

And now we have a succession of rapids 
and falls until noon, all of which we run in 
safety. Just after dinner we come to an- 
other bad place. A little stream comes in 
from the left, and below there is a fall, and 
still below another fall. Above, the river 
tumbles down, over and among the rocks, in 
whirlpools and great waves, and the waters 
are lashed into mad, white foam. We run 
along the left, above this, and soon see that 
we cannot get down on this side, but it seems 
possible to let down on the other. We pull 
up stream again, for two or three hundred 
yards, and cross. Now there is a bed of 
basalt on this northern side of the canon, with 

* For the miserable fate of these men see forward under 
date of Sept. 19, 1870. (Ed.) 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 247 

a bold escarpment, that seems to be a hun- 
dred feet high. We can climb it, and walk 
along its summit to a point where we are 
just at the head of the fall. Here the basalt 
is broken down again, so it seems to us, and 
I direct the men to take a line to the top of 
the cliff, and let the boats down along the 
wall. One man remains in the boat, to keep 
her clear of the rocks, and prevent her line 
from being caught on the projecting angles. 
I climb the cliff, and pass along to a point 
just over the fall, and descend by broken 
rocks, and find that the break of the fall is 
above the break of the wall, so that we can- 
not land; and that still below the river is 
very bad, and that there is no possibility of 
a portage. 

Without waiting further to examine and 
determine what shall be done, I hasten back 
to the top of the cliff, to stop the boats from 
coming down. When I arrive, I find the 
men have let one of them down to the head 
of the fall. She is in swift water, and they 
are not able to pull her back; nor are they 



248 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

able to go on with the line, as it is not long 
enough to reach the higher part of the cliff, 
which is just before them; so they take a 
bight around a crag. I send two men 
back for the other line. The boat is in very 
swift water, and Bradley is standing in the 
open compartment, holding out his oar to 
prevent her from striking against the foot of 
the cliff. Now she shoots out into the 
stream, and up as far as the line will permit, 
and then, wheeling, drives headlong against 
the rock, then out and back again, now 
straining on the line, now striking against 
the rock. As soon as the second line is 
brought, we pass it down to him; but his at- 
tention is all taken up with his own situation, 
and he does not see that we are passing the 
line to him. I stand on a projecting rock, 
waving my hat to gain his attention, for my 
voice is drowned by the roaring of the falls. 
Just at this moment, I see him take his 
knife from its sheath, and step forward to 
cut the line. He has evidently decided that 
it is better to go over with the boat as it is, 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 249 

than to wait for her to be broken to pieces. 
As he leans over, the boat sheers again into 
the stream, the stem-post breaks away, and 
she is loose. With perfect composure Brad- 
ley seizes the great scull oar, places it in the 
stern rowlock, and pulls with all his power 
(and he is an athlete) to turn the bow of 
the boat down stream, for he wishes to go 
bow down, rather than to drift broadside on. 
One, two strokes he makes, and a third just 
as she goes over, and the boat is fairly turned, 
and she goes down almost beyond our sight, 
though we are more than a hundred feet 
above the river. Then she comes up again, 
on a great wave, and down and up, then 
around behind some great rocks, and is lost 
in the mad, white foam below. We stand 
frozen with fear, for we see no boat. Brad- 
ley is gone, so it seems. But now, away be- 
low, we see something coming out of the 
waves. It is evidently a boat. A moment 
more, and we see Bradley standing on deck, 
swinging his hat to show that he is all right. 
But he is in a whirlpool. We have the stem- 



260 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

post of his boat attached to the line. How 
badly she may be disabled we know not. 

I direct Sumner and Powell to pass along 
the chff, and see if they can reach him from 
below. Rhodes, Hall, and myself run to 
the other boat, jump aboard, push out, and 
away we go over the falls. A wave rolls 
over us, and our boat is unmanageable. An- 
other great wave strikes us, the boat rolls 
over, and tumbles and tosses, I know not 
how. All I know is that Bradley is picking 
us up. We soon have all right again, and 
row to the cliff, and wait until Sumner and 
Powell can come. After a difficult climb 
they reach us. We run two or three miles 
farther, and turn again to the northwest, con- 
tinuing until night, when we have run out of 
the granite once more. 

August 29. — We start very early this 
morning. The river still continues swift, 
but we have no serious difficulty, and at 
twelve o'clock emerge from the Grand 
Canon of the Colorado. 

We are in a valley now, and low moun- 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 251 

tains are seen in the distance, coming to the 
river below. We recognize this as the 
Grand Wash. 

A few years ago, a party of Mormons set 
out from St. George, Utah, taking with them 
a boat, and came down to the mouth of the 
Grand Wash, where they divided, a portion 
of the party crossing the river to explore the 
San Francisco Mountains. Three men — 
Hamblin, Miller, and Crosby — taking the 
boat, went on down the river to Callville, 
landing a few miles below the mouth of the 
Rio Virgen. We have their manuscript 
journal w^ith us, and so the stream is compar- 
atively well known. 

To-night we camp on the left bank, in a 
mesquite thicket. 

The relief from danger, and the joy of suc- 
cess, are great. When he who has been 
chained by wounds to a hospital cot, until his 
canvas tent seems like a dungeon cell, until 
the groans of those who lie about, tortured 
with probe and knife, are piled up, a weight 
of horror on his ears that he cannot throw 



252 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

off, cannot forget, and until the stench of 
festering wounds and anaesthetic drugs has 
filled the air with its loathsome burthen, at 
last goes out into the open field, what a world 
he sees ! How beautiful the sky ; how bright 
the sunshine; what "floods of delirious 
music" pour from the throats of birds; how 
sweet the fragrance of earth, and tree, and 
blossom! The first hour of convalescent 
freedom seems rich recompense for all — pain, 
gloom, terror. 

Something like this are the feelings we ex- 
perience to-night. Ever before us has been 
an unknown danger, heavier than immediate 
peril. Every waking hour passed in the 
Grand Canon has been one of toil. We have 
watched with deep solicitude the steady dis- 
appearance of our scant supply of rations, 
and from time to time have seen the river 
snatch a portion of the little left, while we 
were ahungered. And danger and toil were 
endured in those gloomy depths, where oft- 
times the clouds hid the sky by day, and but 
a narrow zone of stars could be seen at night. 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 253 

Only during the few hours of deep sleep, 
consequent on hard labor, has the roar of the 
waters been hushed. Now the danger is 
over ; now the toil has ceased ; now the gloom 
has disappeared; now the firmament is 
bounded only by the horizon; and what 
a vast expanse of constellations can be 
seen! 

The river rolls by us in silent majesty; the 
quiet of the camp is sweet; our joy is almost 
ecstasy. We sit till long after midnight, 
talking of the Grand Canon, talking of home, 
but chiefly talking of the three men who left 
us. Are they wandering in those depths, 
unable to find a way out? are they searching 
over the desert lands above for water? or are 
they nearing the settlements? 

August 30. — We run through two or three 
short, low canons to-day, and on emerging 
from one, we discover a band of Indians in 
the valley below. They see us, and scamper 
away in most eager haste, to hide among the 
rocks. Although we land, and call for them 
to return, not an Indian can be seen. 



254 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Two or three miles farther down, in turn- 
ing a short bend in the river, we come upon 
another camp. So near are we before they 
can see us that I can shout to them, and, 
being able to speak a little of their language, 
I tell them we are friends; but they all flee 
to the rocks, except a man, a woman, and 
two children. We land, and talk with them. 
They are without lodges, but have built httle 
shelters of boughs, under which they wallow 
in the sand. The man is dressed in a hat; 
the woman in a string of beads only. At 
first they are evidently much terrified; but 
when I talk to them in their own language, 
and tell them we are friends, and inquire 
after people in the Mormon towns, they are 
soon reassured, and beg for tobacco. Of this 
precious article we have none to spare. Sum- 
ner looks around in the boat for something 
to give them, and finds a little piece of col- 
ored soap, which they receive as a valuable 
present, rather as a thing of beauty than as 
a useful commodity, however. They are 
either unwilling or unable to tell us anything 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 255 

about the Indians or white people, and so we 
push off, for we must lose no time. 

We camp at noon under the right bank. 
And now, as we push out, we are in great 
expectancy, for we hope every minute to dis- 
cover the mouth of the Rio Virgen. 

Soon one of the men exclaims : " Yonder's 
an Indian in the river." Looking for a few 
minutes, we certainly do see two or three per- 
sons. The men bend to their oars, and pull 
toward them. Approaching, we see that 
there are three white men and an Indian 
hauling a seine, and then we discover that it 
is just at the mouth of the long sought river. 

As we come near, the men seem far less 
surprised to see us than we do to see them. 
They evidently know who we are, and, on 
talking with them, they tell us that we have 
been reported lost long ago, and that some 
weeks before, a messenger had been sent 
from Salt Lake City, with instructions for 
them to watch for any fragments or relics 
of our party that might drift down the 
stream. 



256 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

Our new found friends, Mr. Asa and his 
two sons, tell us that they are pioneers of a 
town that is to be built on the bank. 

Eighteen or twenty miles up the valley of 
the Rio Virgen there are two Mormon 
towns, St. Joseph and St. Thomas. To- 
night we dispatch an Indian to the last men- 
tioned place, to bring any letters that may 
be there for us. 

Our arrival here is very opportune. 
When we look over our store of supplies, we 
find about ten pounds of flour, fifteen pounds 
of dried apples, but seventy or eighty pounds 
of coffee. 

August 31. — This afternoon the Indian 
returns with a letter, informing us that 
Bishop Leithhead, of St. Thomas, and two 
or three other Mormons are coming down 
with a wagon, bringing us supplies. They 
arrive about sundown. Mr. Asa treats us 
with great kindness, to the extent of his abil- 
ity; but Bishop Leithhead brings in his 
wagon two or three dozen melons, and many 



GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 257 

other little luxuries, and we are comfortable 
once more. 

September 1. — This morning Sumner, 
Bradley, Hawkins, and Hall, taking on a 
small supply of rations, start down the Col- 
orado with the boats. It is their intention 
to go to Fort Mojave, and perhaps from 
there overland to Los Angeles. 

Captain Powell and myself return with 
Bishop Leithhead to St. Thomas. From 
St. Thomas we go to Salt Lake City. 




CHAPTER IX 

THE RIO VIRGEN AND THE U-IN-KA-RET 
MOUNTAINS * 

'E have determined to con- 
tinue the exploration of the 
canons of the Colorado. Our 
last trip was so hurried, owing to the loss 
of rations, and the scientific instruments 
were so badly injured, that we are not satis- 
fied with the results obtained, so we shall 
once more attempt to pass through the 
canons in boats, devoting two or three years 
to the trip. 

It will not be possible to carry in the boats 
sufficient supplies for the party for that 
length of time, so it is thought best to es- 
tablish depots of supplies, at intervals of one 
or two hundred miles along the river. 

* Here the story is continued in September of the fol- 
lowing year, 1870. {Ed.) 

258 



THE RIO VIRGEN 259 

Between Gunnison's Crossing and the foot 
of the Grand Canon, we know of only two 
points where the river can be reached — one 
at the Crossing of the Fathers, and another a 
few miles below, at the mouth of the Paria, 
on a route which has been explored by Jacob 
Hamblin, a Mormon missionary. These 
two points are so near each other that only 
one of them can be selected for the purpose 
above mentioned, and others must be found. 
We have been imable, up to this time, to ob- 
tain, either from Indians or white men, any 
information which will give us a clue to any 
other trail to the river. 

At the head waters of the Sevier, we are 
on the summit of a great water-shed. The 
Sevier itself flows north, and then westward, 
into the lake of the same name. The Rio 
Virgen, heading near by, flows to the south- 
west, into the Colorado, sixty or seventy 
miles below the Grand Canon. The Kanab, 
also heading near by, runs directly south, 
into the very heart of the Grand Canon. 
The Paria, also heading near by, runs a lit- 



260 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

tie south of east, and enters the river at the 
head of Marble Canon. To the northeast 
from this point, other streams, which run 
into the Colorado, have their sources, until, 
forty or fifty miles away, we reach the south- 
ern branches of the Dirty Devil River, the 
mouth of which stream is but a short dis- 
tance below the junction of the Grand and 
Green. 

The Pouns-a'-gunt Plateau terminates in 
a point, which is bounded by a line of beauti- 
ful pink cliffs. At the foot of this plateau, 
on the west, the Rio Virgen and Sevier 
Rivers are dovetailed together, as their mi- 
nute upper branches interlock. The upper 
surface of the plateau inclines to the north- 
east, so that its waters roll off into the Sevier ; 
but from the foot of the cliffs, quite around 
the sharp angle of the plateau, for a dozen 
miles, we find numerous springs, whose wa- 
ters unite to form the Kanab. But a little 
farther to the northeast the springs gather 
into streams that feed the Paria. 

Here, by the upper springs of the Kanab, 



THE RIO VIRGEN 261 

we make a camp, and from this point we are 
to radiate on a series of trips, southwest, 
south, and east. 

Jacob Hambhn, who has been a mission- 
ary among the Indians for more than twenty 
years, has collected a number of Kai'-vav-its, 
with Chu-ar'-ru-um-peak, their chief, and 
they are all camped with us. They assure 
us that we cannot reach the river; that we 
cannot make our way into the depths of the 
canon, but promise to show us the springs 
and water pockets, which are very scarce in 
all this region, and to give us all the infor- 
mation in their power. 

Here we fit up a pack train, for our bed- 
ding and instruments, and supplies are to be 
carried on the backs of mules and ponies. 

September 5, 1870. — The several members 
of the party are engaged in general prepara- 
tion for our trip down to the Grand Canon. 

Taking with me a white man and an In- 
dian, I start on a climb to the summit of the 
Pouns-a'-gunt Plateau, which rises above us 
on the east. Our way, for a mile or more, is 



^62 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

over a great peat bog, that trembles under 
our feet, and now and then a mule sinks 
through the broken turf, and we are com- 
pelled to pull it out with ropes. 

Passing the bog, our way is up a gulch, 
at the foot of the Pink Cliffs, which form the 
escarpment, or wall, of the great plateau. 
Soon we leave the gulch, and climb a long 
ridge, which winds around to the right to- 
ward the summit of the great table. 

Two hours' riding, climbing, and clamber- 
ing brings us near the top. We look below, 
and see clouds drifting up from the south, 
and rolling tumultuously toward the foot of 
the cliffs, beneath us. Soon, all the country 
below is covered with a sea of vapor — a bil- 
lowy, raging, noiseless sea — and as the 
vapory flood still rolls up from the south, 
great waves dash against the foot of the 
cliffs and roll back; another tide comes in, 
is hurled back, and another and another, 
lashing the cliffs until the fog rises to the 
summit, and covers us all. 

There is a heavy pine and fir forest above, 



THE RIO VIRGEN 26S 

beset with dead and fallen timber, and we 
make our way through the undergrowth to 
the east. 

It rains! The clouds discharge their 
moisture in torrents, and we make for our- 
selves shelters of boughs, which are soon 
abandoned, and we stand shivering by a 
great fire of pine logs and boughs, which we 
have kindled, but which the pelting storm 
half extinguishes. 

One, two, three, four hours of the storm, 
and at last it partially abates. 

During this time our animals, which we 
have turned loose, have sought for themselves 
shelter under the trees, and two of them have 
wandered away beyond our sight. I go out 
to follow their tracks, and come near to the 
brink of a ledge of rocks, which, in the fog 
and mist, I suppose to be a little ridge, and 
I look for a way by which I can go down. 
Standing just here, there is a rift made in 
the fog below, by some current or blast of 
wind, which reveals an almost bottomless 
abyss. I look from the brink of a great 



»64 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

precipice of more than two thousand feet; 
but, through the mist, the forms below are 
half obscured, and all reckoning of distance 
is lost, and it seems ten thousand feet, ten 
miles — any distance the imagination desires 
to make it. 

Catching our animals, we return to the 
camp. We find that the little streams which 
come down from the plateau are greatly 
swollen, but at camp they have had no rain. 
The clouds which drifted up from the south, 
striking against the plateau, were lifted up 
into colder regions, and discharged their 
moisture on the summit, and against the 
sides of the plateau, but there was no rain in 
the valley below. 

September 9. — We make a fair start this 
morning, from the beautiful meadow at the 
head of the Kanab, and cross the line of lit- 
tle hills at the headwaters of the Rio Vir- 
gen, and pass, to the south, a pretty valley, 
and at ten o'clock come to the brink of a 
great geographic bench — a line of cliffs. 
Behind us are cool springs, green meadows. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 265 

and forest clad slopes; below us, stretching 
to the south, until the world is lost in blue 
haze, is a painted desert; not a desert plain, 
but a desert of rocks, cut by deep gorges, 
and relieved by towering cliffs and pinnacled 
rocks — naked rocks, brilliant in the sun- 
hght. 

By a difficult trail, we make our way down 
the basaltic ledge, through which innumer- 
able streams here gather into a little river, 
running in a deep canon. The river runs 
close to the foot of the cliffs, on the right 
hand side, and the trail passes along to the 
right. At noon we rest, and our animals 
feed on luxuriant grass. 

Again we start, and make slow progress 
along a stony way. At night we camp un- 
der an overarching cliff. 

September 10. — Here the river turns to 
the west, and our way, properly, is to the 
south; but we wish to explore the Rio Vir- 
gen as far as possible. The Indians tell us 
that the canon narrows gradually, a few 
miles below, and that it will be impossible to 



266 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

take our animals much farther down the 
river. Early in the morning, I go down to 
examine the head of this narrow part. After 
breakfast, having concluded to explore the 
canon for a few miles on foot, we arrange 
that the main party shall climb the cliff, and 
go around to a point eighteen or twenty 
miles below, where, the Indians say, the ani- 
mals can be taken down by the river, and 
three of us set out on foot. 

The Indian name of the canon is Pa-ru^- 
nU'Wea'p, or Roaring Water Canon. Be- 
tween the little river and the foot of the 
walls, is a dense growth of willows, vines, and 
wild rose bushes, and, with great difficulty, 
we make our way through this tangled mass. 
It is not a wide stream — only twenty or 
thirty feet across in most places; shallow, 
but very swift. After spending some hours 
in breaking our way through the mass of 
vegetation, and climbing rocks here and 
there, it is determined to wade along the 
stream. In some places this is an easy task, 
but here and there we come to deep holes. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 267 

where we have to wade to our arm pits. 
Soon we come to places so narrow that the 
river fills the entire channel, and we wade 
perforce. In many places the bottom is a 
quicksand, into which we sink, and it is with 
great difficulty that we make progress. In 
some places the holes are so deep that we 
have to swim, and our little bundles of 
blankets and rations are fixed to a raft made 
of driftwood, and pushed before us. Now 
and then there is a little flood-plain, on which 
we can walk, and we cross and recross the 
stream, and wade along the channel where 
the water is so swift as to almost carry us 
off our feet, and we are in danger every mo- 
ment of being swept down, until night comes 
on. We estimate we have traveled eight 
miles to-day. We find a little patch of 
flood-plain, on which there is a huge pile of 
driftwood and a clump of box-elders, and 
near by a great stream, which bursts from the 
rocks — a mammoth spring. 

We soon have a huge fire, our clothes are 
spread to dry, we make a cup of coffee, take 



268 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

out our bread and cheese and dried beef, and 
enjoy a hearty supper. 

The canon here is about twelve hundred 
feet deep. It has been very narrow and 
winding all the way down to this point. 

September 11. — Wading again this morn- 
ing ; sinking in the quicksand, swimming the 
deep waters, and making slow and painful 
progress where the waters are swift, and the 
bed of the stream rocky. 

The canon is steadily becoming deeper, 
and, in many places, very narrow — only 
twenty or thirty feet wide below, and in some 
places no wider, and even narrower, for hun- 
dreds of feet overhead. There are places 
where the river, in sweeping by curves, has 
cut far under the rocks, but still preserving 
its narrow channel, so that there is an over- 
hanging wall on one side and an inclined wall 
on the other. In places a few hundred feet 
above, it becomes vertical again, and thus 
the view of the sky is entirely closed. Every- 
where this deep passage is dark and gloomy, 
and resounds with the noise of rapid waters. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 269 

At noon we are in a canon 2,500 feet deep, 
and we come to a fall where the walls are 
broken down, and huge rocks beset the chan- 
nel, on which we obtain a foothold to reach 
a level two hundred feet below. Here the 
canon is again wider, and we find a flood- 
plain, along which we can walk, now on this, 
and now on that side of the stream. Grad- 
ually the canon widens; steep rapids, cas- 
cades, and cataracts are found along the 
river, but we wade only when it is necessary 
to cross. We make progress with very great 
labor, having to climb over piles of broken 
rocks. 

Late in the afternoon, we come to a little 
clearing in the valley, and see other signs of 
civilization, and by sundown arrive at the 
Mormon town of Schunesburg; and here we 
meet the train, and feast on melons and 
grapes. 

September 12. — Our course, for the last 
two days, through Pa-ru^-nu-weap Canon, 
was directly to the west. Another stream 
comes down from the north, and unites just 



mo FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

here at Schunesburg with the main branch 
of the Rio Virgen. We determine to spend 
a day in the exploration of this stream. The 
Indians call the canon, through which it runs, 
Mu'hoon^'tu-wea'p, or Straight Canon. En- 
tering this, we have to wade up stream ; often 
the water fills the entire channel, and, al- 
though we travel many miles, we find no 
flood-plain, talus, or broken piles of rock at 
the foot of the cliff. The walls have smooth, 
plain faces, and are everywhere very regu- 
lar and vertical for a thousand feet or more, 
where they seem to break back in shelving 
slopes to higher altitudes; and everywhere, 
as we go along, we find springs bursting out 
at the foot of the walls, and, passing these, 
the river above becomes steadily smaller ; the 
great body of water, which runs below, bursts 
out from beneath this great bed of red sand- 
stone ; as we go up the canon, it comes to be 
but a creek, and then a brook. On the west- 
ern wall of the canon stand some buttes, tow- 
ers, and high pinnacled rocks. Going up 
the canon, we gain glimpses of them, here 



THE RIO VIRGEN 271 

and there. Last summer, after our trip 
through the canons of the Colorado, on our 
way from the mouth of the Virgen to Salt 
Lake City, these were seen as conspicuous 
landmarks, from a distance, away to the 
southwest, of sixty or seventy miles. These 
tower rocks are known as the Temples of the 
Virgen. 

Having explored this canon nearly to its 
head, we return to Schunesburg, arriving 
quite late at night. 

Sitting in camp this evening, Chu-af-ru- 
um-jpeak, the chief of the Kai^-vav-its^ who 
is one of our party, tells us there is a tradi- 
tion among the tribes of this country, that 
many years ago a great light was seen some- 
where in this region by the Pa-ru^-sha-patSj, 
who lived to the southwest, and that they 
supposed it to be a signal, kindled to warn 
them of the approach of the Navajos, who 
live beyond the Colorado River to the east. 
Then other signal fires were kindled on the 
Pine Valley Mountain, Santa Clara Moun- 
tains, and U-in-ka-ret Mountains, so that all 



272 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

the tribes of Northern Arizona, Southern 
Utah, Southern Nevada, and Southern Cali- 
fornia were warned of the approaching dan- 
ger; but when the Pa-rv/sha-pats came 
nearer, they discovered that it was a fire on 
one of the great Temples; and then they 
knew that the fire was not kindled by men, 
for no human being could scale the rocks. 
The Tu^-mu-ur-ru-gwaif-si-gaip, or Rock 
Rovers, had kindled a fire to deceive the peo- 
ple. In the Indian language this is called 
Tu^-mU'Ur-ru-gwaif-si-gaip Tu-weap\ or 
Rock Rovers' Land. 

September 13. — We start very early this 
morning, for we have a long day's travel be- 
fore us. Our way is across the Rio Virgen to 
the south. Coming to the bank of the stream 
here, we find a strange metamorphosis. The 
streams we have seen above, running in 
narrow channels, leaping and plunging over 
the rocks, raging and roaring in their course, 
are here united, and spread in a thin sheet 
several hundred yards wide, and only a few 
inches deep, but running over a bed of quick- 



THE RIO VIRGEN 273 

sand. Crossing the stream, our trail leads 
up a narrow canon, not very deep, and then 
among the hills of golden, red, and purple 
shales and marls. Climbing out of the val- 
ley of the Rio Virgen, we pass through a for- 
est of dwarf cedars, and come out at the foot 
of the Vermilion CHff s. All day we follow 
this Indian trail toward the east, and at night 
camp at a great spring, known to the Indians 
as Yellow Rock Spring, but to the Mormons 
as Pipe Spring ; and near by there is a cabin 
in which some Mormon herders find shelter. 
Pipe Spring is a point just across the Utah 
line in Arizona, and we suppose it to be about 
sixty miles from the river. Here the Mor- 
mons design to build a fort another year, as 
an outpost for protection against the In- 
dians. 

Here we discharge a number of the In- 
dians, but take two with us for the purpose of 
showing us the springs, for they are very 
scarce, very small, and not easily found. 
Half a dozen are not known in a district of 
country large enough to make as many good 



^74 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

sized counties in Illinois. There are no run- 
ning streams, and these springs and water- 
pockets — that is, holes in the rocks, which 
hold water from shower to shower — are our 
only dependence for this element. 

Starting, we leave behind a long line of 
cliffs, many hundred feet high, composed of 
orange and vermilion sandstones. I have 
named them "Vermilion Cliffs." When we 
are out a few miles, I look back, and see the 
morning sun shining in splendor on their 
painted faces; the salient angles are on fire, 
and the retreating angles are buried in shade, 
and I gaze on them until my vision dreams, 
and the cliffs appear a long bank of purple 
clouds, piled from the horizon high into the 
heavens. At noon we pass along a ledge of 
chocolate cliffs, and, taking out our sand- 
wiches, we make a dinner as we ride along. 

Yesterday, our Indians discussed for 
hours the route which we should take. There 
is one way, farther by ten or twelve miles, 
with sure water; another shorter, where wa- 
ter is found sometimes; their conclusion was 



THE RIO VIRGEN ^75 

that water would be found now; and this is 
the way we go, yet all day long we are anx- 
ious about it. To be out two days, with only 
the water that can be carried in two small 
kegs, is to have our animals suffer greatly. 
At five o'clock we come to the spot, and 
there is a huge water-pocket, containing sev- 
eral barrels. What a relief! Here we 
camp for the night. 

September 15. — Up at day-break, for it is 
a long day's march to the next water. They 
say we must "run very hard" to reach it by 
dark. 

Our course is to the south. From Pipe 
Spring we can see a mountain, and I recog- 
nize it as the one seen last summer from a 
cliff overlooking the Grand Canon; and I 
wish to reach the river just behind the moun- 
tain. There are Indians living in the group, 
of which it is the highest, whom I wish to 
visit on the way. These mountains are of 
volcanic origin, and we soon come to ground 
that is covered with fragments of lava. The 
way becomes very difficult. We have to 



276 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

cross deep ravines, the heads of canons that 
run into the Grand Canon. It is curious 
now to observe the knowledge of our Indians. 
There is not a trail but what they know; 
every gulch and every rock seems familiar. 
I have prided myself on being able to grasp 
and retain in my mind the topography of a 
country ; but these Indians put me to shame. 
My knowledge is only general, embracing 
the more important features of a region that 
remains as a map engraved on my mind; but 
theirs is particular. They know every rock 
and every ledge, every gulch and canon, and 
just where to wind among these to find a 
pass ; and their knowledge is unerring. They 
cannot describe a country to you, but they 
can tell you all the particulars of a route. 

I have but one pony for the two, and they 
were to ride "turn about"; but Chu-af-ru- 
um-peak^ the chief, rides, and Shuts ^ the one- 
eyed, bare-legged, merry-faced pigmy, 
walks, and points the way with a slender 
cane; then leaps and bounds by the shortest 
way, and sits down on a rock and waits de- 



THE RIO VIRGEN 277 

murely until we come, always meeting us 
with a jest, his face a rich mine of sunny- 
smiles. 

At dusk we reach the water-pocket. It is 
in a deep gorge, on the flank of this great 
mountain. During the rainy season the wa- 
ter rolls down the mountain side, plunging 
over precipices, and excavates a deep basin 
in the solid rock below. This basin, hidden 
from the sun, holds water the year round. 

September 16. — This morning, while the 
men are packing the animals, I climb a little 
mountain near camp, to obtain a view of the 
country. It is a huge pile of volcanic scoria, 
loose and light as cinders from a forge, which 
give way under my feet, and I climb with 
great labor; but reaching the summit, and 
looking to the southeast, I see once more the 
labyrinth of deep gorges that flank the 
Grand Canon ; in the multitude, I cannot de- 
termine whether it be in view or not. The 
memories of grand and awful months spent 
in their deep, gloomy sohtudes come up, and 
I live that life over again for a time. 



278 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

I supposed, before starting, that I could 
get a good view of the great mountain from 
this point; but it is hke climbing a chair to 
look at a castle. I wish to discover some way 
by which it can be ascended, as it is my inten- 
tion to go to the summit before I return to 
the settlements. There is a cliff near the 
summit, and I do not see the way yet. Now 
down I go, sliding on the cinders, making 
them rattle and clang. 

The Indians say we are to have a short ride 
to-day, and that we will reach an Indian vil- 
lage, situated by a good spring. Our way 
is across the spurs that put out from the 
great mountain, as we pass it to the left. 

Up and down we go, across deep ravines, 
and the fragments of lava clank under our 
horses' feet ; now among cedars, now among 
pines, and now across mountain side glades. 
At one o'clock we descend into a lovely val- 
ley, with a carpet of waving grass; some- 
times there is a little water in the upper end 
of it, and, during some seasons, the Indians 
we wish to find are encamped here. CJiu- 



THE RIO VIRGEN 279 

ar^-ru-um-peak rides on to find them, and to 
say we are friends, otherwise they would run 
away, or propose to fight us, should we come 
without notice. Soon we see Cliu-af -ru-um- 
peak riding at full speed, and hear him shout- 
ing at the top of his voice, and away in the 
distance are two Indians, scampering up the 
mountain side. One stops; the other still 
goes on, and is soon lost to view. We ride 
up, and find Chu-ar^-ru-um-peak talking 
with the one who had stopped. It is one of 
the ladies resident in these mountain glades ; 
she is evidently paying taxes, Godiva like. 
She tells us that her people are at the spring; 
that it is only two hours' ride ; that her good 
master has gone on to tell them we are com- 
ing, and that she is harvesting seeds. 

We sit down and eat our luncheon, and 
share our biscuit with the woman of the 
mountains; then on we go, over a divide be- 
tween two rounded peaks. I send the party 
on to the village, and climb the peak on the 
left, riding my horse to the upper limit of 
trees, and then tugging up afoot. From this 



^80 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

point I can see the Grand Canon, and know 
where I am. I can see the Indian village, 
too, in a grassy valley, embosomed in the 
mountains, the smoke curling up from their 
fires; my men are turning out their horses, 
and a group of natives stand around. Down 
the mountain I go, and reach camp at sun- 
set. 

After supper we put some cedar boughs 
on the fire, the dusky villagers sit around, 
and we have a smoke and a talk. I explain 
the object of my visit, and assure them of 
my friendly intentions. Then I ask them 
about a way down into the canon. They tell 
me that years ago, a way was discovered by 
which parties could go down, but that no one 
has attempted it for a long time; that it is 
a very difficult and very dangerous under- 
taking to reach the "Big Water." Then I 
inquire about the SM-vwits, a tribe that lives 
about the springs on the mountain sides and 
canon cliffs to the southwest. They say that 
their village is now about thirty miles away, 



THE RIO VIRGEN 281 

and promise to send a messenger for them to- 
morrow morning. 

Having finished our business for the even- 
ing, I ask if there is a tu-gwi^-na-gunt in 
camp: that is, if there is any one present 
who is skilled in relating their mythology. 
Chu-af-ru-um-'peak says To-mof-ro-un-ti- 
kai, the chief of these Indians, is a very noted 
man for his skill in this matter ; but they both 
object, by saying that the season for tu-gwi^- 
nai has not yet arrived. But I had antici- 
pated this, and soon some members of the 
party come with pipes and tobacco, a large 
kettle of coffee, and a tray of biscuits, and, 
after sundry ceremonies of pipe lighting and 
smoking, we all feast, and, warmed up by 
this, to them, unusual good living, it is de- 
cided that the night shall be spent in relating 
mythology. I ask To-mor'-ro-un'ti-kai to 
tell us about the So'-kus Wai'-tm-ats, or 
One Two Boys, and to this he agrees. 

The long winter evenings of an Indian 
camp are usually devoted to the relation of 



282 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

mythological stories, which purport to give 
a history of an ancient race of animal gods. 
The stories are usually told by some old man, 
assisted by others of the party, who take sec- 
ondary parts, while the members of the tribe 
gather about, and make comments, or receive 
impressions from the morals which are en- 
forced by the story teller, or, more properly, 
story tellers ; for the exercise partakes some- 
what of the nature of a theatrical perform- 
ance. 

THE SO'-KUS WAl'-UN-ATS. 

Tum-pwi-nai^-ro-gwi-numpj he who had 
a stone shirt, killed Si-kof, the Crane, and 
stole his wife, and seeing that she had a child, 
and thinking it would be an incumbrance to 
them on their travels, he ordered her to kill 
it. But the mother, loving the babe, hid it 
under her dress, and carried it away to its 
grandmother. And Stone Shirt carried his 
captured bride to his own land. 

In a few years the child grew to be a fine 



THE RIO VIRGEN 283 

lad, under the care of his grandmother, and 
was her companion wherever she went. 

One day they were digging flag roots, on 
the margin of the river, and putting them in 
a heap on the bank. When they had been 
at work a little while, the boy perceived that 
the roots came up with greater ease than was 
customary, and he asked the old woman the 
cause of this, but she did not know; and, as 
they continued their work, still the reeds 
came up with less effort, at which their won- 
der increased, until the grandmother said, 
"Surely, some strange thing is about to tran- 
spire." Then the boy went to the heap, 
where they had been placing the roots, and 
found that some one had taken them away, 
and he ran back, exclaiming, "Grandmother, 
did you take the roots away?" And she an- 
swered, "No, my child; perhaps some ghost 
has taken them off ; let us dig no more ; come 
away." But the boy was not satisfied, as he 
greatly desired to know what all this meant ; 
so he searched about for a time, and at length 



S84 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

found a man sitting under a tree, whom he 
taunted with being a thief, and threw mud 
and stones at him, until he broke the stran- 
ger's leg, who answered not the boy, nor re- 
sented the injuries he received, but remained 
silent and sorrowful; and, when his leg was 
broken, he tied it up in sticks, and bathed it 
in the river, and sat down again under the 
tree, and beckoned the boy to approach. 
When the lad came near, the stranger told 
him he had something of great importance 
to reveal. "My son," said he, "did that old 
woman ever tell you about your father and 
mother?" "No," answered the boy; "I have 
never heard of them." "My son, do you see 
these bones scattered on the ground ? Whose 
bones are these?" "How should I know?" 
answered the boy. " It may be that some 
elk or deer has been killed here." "No," 
said the old man. "Perhaps they are the 
bones of a bear;" but the old man shook his 
head. So the boy mentioned many other 
animals, but the stranger still shook his head, 
and finally said, "These are the bones of your 



THE RIO VIRGEN 285 

father; Stone Shirt killed him, and left him 
to rot here on the ground, like a wolf." And 
the boy was filled with indignation against 
the slayer of his father. Then the stranger 
asked, "Is your mother in yonder lodge?" 
and the boy replied, "No." "Does your 
mother live on the banks of this river?" and 
the boy answered, '*I don't know my mother; 
I have never seen her; she is dead." "My 
son," replied the stranger, "Stone Shirt, who 
killed your father, stole your mother, and 
took her away to the shore of a distant lake, 
and there she is his wife to-day." And the 
boy wept bitterly, and while the tears filled 
his eyes so that he could not see, the stranger 
disappeared. Then the boy was filled with 
wonder at what he had seen and heard, and 
malice grew in his heart against his father's 
enemy. He returned to the old woman, and 
said, "Grandmother, why have you lied to 
me about my father and mother?" and she 
answered not, for she knew that a ghost had 
told all to the boy. And the boy fell upon 
the ground weeping and sobbing, until he 



S86 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

fell into a deep sleep, when strange things 
were told him. 

His slumber continued three days and 
three nights, and when he awoke, he said to 
his grandmother : "I am going away to en- 
list all nations in my fight ;" and straightway 
he departed. 

(Here the boy's travels are related with 
many circumstances concerning the way he 
was received by the people, all given in a 
series of conversations, very lengthy, so they 
will be omitted.) 

Finally he returned in advance of the peo- 
ple whom he had enlisted, bringing with him 
STiin-au^-av, the wolf, and To-gd-av, the rat- 
tlesnake. When the three had eaten food, 
the boy said to the old woman: *'Grand- 
mother, cut me in two!" But she demurred, 
saying she did not wish to kill one whom she 
loved so dearly. "Cut me in two!" de- 
manded the boy ; and he gave her a stone ax, 
which he had brought from a distant country, 
and with a manner of great authority he 
again commanded her to cut him in two. So 



THE RIO VIRGEN S87 

she stood before him, and severed him in 
twain, and fled in terror. And lo ! each part 
took the form of an entire man, and the one 
beautiful boy appeared as two, and they 
were so much ahke no one could tell them 
apart. 

When the people or natives, whom the boy 
had enlisted, came pouring into the camp, 
SJijn-au^ -av and To-go^-av were engaged in 
telling them of the wonderful thing that had 
happened to the boy, and that now there 
were two ; and they all held it to be an augury 
of a successful expedition to the land of 
Stone Shirt. And they started on their 
journey. 

Now the boy had been told in the dream 
of his three days' slumber, of a magical cup, 
and he had brought it home with him from 
his journey among the nations, and the So^- 
hus Wai^'Un-ats carried it between them, 
filled with water. Sliin-au^-av walked on 
their right, and To-go^-av on their left, and 
the nations followed in the order in which 
they had been enhsted. There was a vast 



288 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

number of them, so that when they were 
stretched out in line it was one day's journey 
from the front to the rear of the column. 

When they had journeyed two days, and 
were far out on the desert, all the people 
thirsted, for they found no water, and they 
fell down upon the sand, groaning, and mur- 
muring that they had been deceived, and they 
cursed the One-Two. 

But the So—kus Wai^-un-ats had been told 
in the wonderful dream of the suffering 
which would be endured, and that the water 
which they carried in the cup was only to be 
used in dire necessity; and the brothers said 
to each other: "Now the time has come for 
us to drink the water." And when one had 
quaffed of the magical bowl, he found it still 
full ; and he gave it to the other to drink, and 
still it was full; and the One-Two gave it 
to the people, and one after another did they 
all drink, and still the cup was full to the 
brim. 

But Shin-au^-av was dead, and all the 
people mourned, for he was a great maru 



THE RIO VIRGEN ^89 

The brothers held the cup over hiin^ and 
sprinkled him with water, when he arose and 
said : "Why do you disturb me ? I did have 
a vision of mountain brooks and meadows, 
of cane where honey-dew was plenty." They 
gave him the cup, and he drank also; but 
when he had finished there was none left. 
Refreshed and rejoicing they proceeded on 
their journey. 

The next day, being without food, they 
were hungry, and all were about to perish; 
and again they murmured at the brothers, 
and cursed them. But the So^-hus Wai^-un- 
ats saw in the distance an antelope, standing 
on an eminence in the plain, in bold relief 
against the sky ; and Shin-au^-av knew it was 
the wonderful antelope with many eyes, 
which Stone Shirt kept for his watchman; 
and he proposed to go and kill it, but To- 
go^-av demurred, and said: *'It were better 
that I should go, for he will see you, and run 
away." But the So^-kus Wai^-un-ats told 
Shin-au^-av to go; and he started in a direc- 
tion away to the left of where the antelope 



290 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

was standing, that he might make a long 
detour about some hills, and come upon him 
from the other side. To-go'-av went a lit- 
tle way from camp, and called to the broth- 
ers: "Do you see me?" and they answered 
they did not. "Hunt for me;" and while 
they were hunting for him, the rattlesnake 
said: "I can see you; you are doing" — so 
and so, telling them what they were doing; 
but they could not find him. 

Then the rattlesnake came forth, declar- 
ing: "Now you know I can see others, and 
that I cannot be seen when I so desire. Sliin- 
aii^-av cannot kill that antelope, for he has 
many eyes, and is the wonderful watchman 
of Stone Shirt ; but I can kill him, for I can 
go where he is, and he cannot see me." So 
the brothers were convinced, and permitted 
him to go; and he went and killed the ante- 
lope. When Shin-au'-av saw it fall, he was 
very angry, for he was extremely proud of 
his fame as a hunter, and anxious to have the 
honor of killing this famous antelope, and 
he ran up with the intention of killing To- 



THE RIO VIRGEN 291 

go'-av; but when he drew near, and saw the 
antelope was fat, and would make a rich feast 
for the people, his anger was appeased. 
"What matters it," said he, "who kills the 
game, when we can all eat it?" 

So all the people were fed in abundance, 
and they proceeded on their journey. 

The next day the people again suffered for 
water, and the magical cup was empty; but 
the So'-hns Wai'-wn-ais, having been told in 
their dream what to do, transformed them- 
selves into doves, and flew away to a lake, on 
the margin of which was the home of Stone 
Shirt. 

Coming near to the shore, they saw two 
maidens bathing in the water ; and the birds 
stood and looked, for the maidens were very 
beautiful. Then they flew into some bushes, 
near by, to have a nearer view, and were 
caught in a snare which the girls had placed 
for intrusive birds. The beautiful maidens 
came up, and, taking the birds out of the 
snare, admired them very much, for they had 
never seen such birds before. They carried 



292 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

them to their father, Stone Shirt, who said: 
"My daughters, I very much fear these are 
spies from my enemies, for such birds do not 
live in our land ;" and he was about to throw 
them into the fire, when the maidens besought 
him, with tears, that he would not destroy 
their beautiful birds; but he yielded to their 
entreaties with much misgiving. Then they 
took the birds to the shore of the lake, and set 
them free. 

When the birds were at liberty once more, 
they flew around among the bushes, until 
they found the magical cup which they had 
lost, and taking it up, they carried it out into 
the middle of the lake and settled down upon 
the water, and the maidens supposed they 
were drowned. 

The birds, when they had filled their cup, 
rose again, and went back to the people in 
the desert, where they arrived just at the 
right time to save them with the cup of water, 
from which each drank; and yet it was full 
until the last was satisfied, and then not a 
drop remained. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 293 

The brothers reported that they had seen 
Stone Shirt and his daughters. 

The next day they came near to the home 
of the enemy, and the brothers, in proper 
person, went out to reconnoitre. Seeing a 
woman gleaning seeds, they drew near, and 
knew it was their mother, whom Stone Shirt 
had stolen from Si-hor^, the crane. They 
told her they were her sons, but she denied 
it, and said she had never had but one son; 
but the boys related to her their history, with 
the origin of the two from one, and she was 
convinced. She tried to dissuade them from 
making war upon Stone Shirt, and told them 
that no arrow could possibly penetrate his 
armor, and that he was a great warrior, and 
had no other delight than in killing his ene- 
mies, and that his daughters also were fur- 
nished with magical bows and arrows, which 
they could shoot so fast that the arrows 
would fill the air like a cloud, and that it was 
not necessary for them to take aim, for their 
missiles went where they willed ; they thought 
the arrows to the hearts of their enemies ; and 



294 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

thus the maidens could kill the whole of the 
people before a common arrow could be shot 
by a common person. But the boys told her 
what the spirit had said in the long dream, 
and had promised that Stone Shn^t should 
be killed. They told her to go down to the 
lake at dawn, so as not to be endangered by 
the battle. 

During the night, the So^-hus Wai'-un-ats 
transformed themselves into mice, and pro- 
ceeded to the home of Stone Shirt, and found 
the magical bows and arrows that belonged 
to the maidens, and with their sharp teeth 
they cut the sinew on the backs of the bows, 
and nibbled the bow strings, so that they were 
worthless ; while To-gd-av hid himself under 
a rock near by. 

When dawn came into the sky, Tum-pwi- 
Tiai^-ro-gwi-nump, the Stone Shirt man, arose 
and walked out of his tent, exulting in his 
strength and security, and sat down upon 
the rock under which To-go^-av was hiding; 
and he, seeing his opportunity, sunk his fangs 



THE RIO VIRGEN 295 

into the flesh of the hero. Stone Shirt 
sprang high into the air, and called to his 
daughters that they were betrayed, and that 
the enemy was near; and they seized their 
magical bows, and their quivers filled with 
magical arrows, and hurried to his defense. 
At the same time, all the nations who were 
surrounding the camp rushed down to bat- 
tle. But the beautiful maidens, finding their 
weapons were destroyed, waved back their 
enemies, as if they would parley ; and, stand- 
ing for a few moments over the body of their 
slain father, sang the death song, and danced 
the death dance, whirling in giddy circles 
about the dead hero, and wailing with de- 
spair, until they sank down and expired. 

The conquerors buried the maidens by the 
shores of the lake ; but Tum-pwi-nai^-ro-gwi- 
nump was left to rot, and his bones to bleach 
on the sands, as he had left Si-kof. 

There is this proverb among the Utes: 
''Do not murmur when you suffer in doing 
what the spirits have commanded, for a cup 



296 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

of water is provided." And another: 
"What matters it who kills the game, when 
we can all eat of it." 

It is long after midnight when the per- 
formance is ended. The story itself was in- 
teresting, though I had heard it many times 
before; but never, perhaps, under circum- 
stances more effective. Stretched beneath 
tall, sombre pines ; a great camp fire, and by 
the fire, men, old, wrinkled, and ugly; de- 
formed, blear eyed, wry faced women ; lithe, 
stately young men; pretty but simpering 
maidens, naked children, all intently listen- 
ing, or laughing and talking at times, their 
strange faces and dusky forms lit up with the 
glare of the pine-knot fire. All the circum- 
stances conspired to make it a scene strange 
and weird. One old man, the sorcerer or 
medicine-man of the tribe, peculiarly im- 
pressed me. Now and then he would inter- 
rupt the play for the purpose of correcting 
the speakers, or impressing the moral of the 
story with a strange dignity and impressive- 
ness that seemed to pass to the very border 



THE RIO VIRGEN 297 

of the ludicrous ; yet at no time did it make 
me smile. 

The story is finished, but there is yet time 
for an hour or two's sleep. I take Chu-af- 
ru-mn-peak to one side for a talk. The 
three men who left us in the canon last year 
found their way up the lateral gorge, by 
which they went into the SM-vwits Moun- 
tains, lying west of us, where they met with 
the Indians, and camped with them one or 
two nights, and were finally killed. I am 
anxious to learn the circumstances, and as 
the people of the tribe who committed the 
deed live but a little way from and are inti- 
mate with these people, I ask Chu-ar^-ru-um- 
peak to make inquiry for me. Then we go 
to bed. 

September 17. — Early this morning the 
Indians come up to our camp. They have 
concluded to send out a young man after the 
Shi'-vwits, The runner fixes his moccasins, 
puts some food in a sack and water in a little 
wicker work jug, straps them on his back, 
and starts at a good round pace, 



298 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

We have concluded to go down the canon, 
hoping to meet the Slii'-vwits on our return. 
Soon we are ready to start, leaving the camp 
and pack animals in charge of the two In- 
dians who came with us. As we move out, 
our new guide comes up, a blear eyed, weazen 
faced, quiet old man, with his bow and ar- 
rows in one hand, and a small cane in the 
other. These Indians all carry canes with 
a crooked handle, they say to kill rattle- 
snakes, and to pull rabbits from their holes. 
The valley is high up in the mountain, and 
we descend from it, by a rocky, precipitous 
trail, down, down, down for two long, weary 
hours, leading our ponies and stumbling over 
the rocks. At last we are at the foot of the 
mountain, standing on a little knoll, from 
which we can look into a canon below. Into 
this we descend, and then we follow it for 
miles, clambering down and still down. 
Often we cross beds of lava, that have been 
poured into the canon by lateral channels, 
and these angular fragments of basalt make 
the way very rough for the animals. 



THE RIO VIRGEN ^99 

About two o'clock the guide halts us with 
his wand, and springing over the rocks he is 
lost in a gulch. In a few minutes he returns, 
and tells us there is a little water below in a 
pocket. It is vile and stinking, and our 
ponies refuse to drink it. We pass on, still 
ever descending. A mile or two from the 
water basin we come to a precipice, more than 
a thousand feet to the bottom. There is a 
canon running at a greater depth, and at 
right angles to this, into which this enters by 
the precipice ; and this second canon is a lat- 
eral one to the greater one, in the bottom of 
which we are to find the river. Searching 
about, we find a way by which we can de- 
scend along the shelves, and steps, and piles 
of broken rocks. 

We start leading our ponies ; a wall upon 
our left ; unknown depths on our right. At 
places our way is along shelves so narrow, 
or so sloping, that I ache with fear lest a pony 
should make a misstep, and knock a man over 
the cliffs with him. Now and then we start 
the loose rocks under our feet, and over the 



300 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

cliffs they go, thundering down, down, as the 
echoes roll through distant canons. At last 
we pass along a level shelf for some distance, 
then we turn to the right, and zigzag down 
a steep slope to the bottom. Now we pass 
along this lower canon, for two or three 
miles, to where it terminates in the Grand 
Canon, as the other ended in this, only the 
river is 1,800 feet below us, and it seems, 
at this distance, to be but a creek. Our with- 
ered guide, the human pickle, seats himself 
on a rock, and seems wonderfully amused 
at our discomfiture, for we can see no way 
by which to descend to the river. After 
some minutes, he quietly rises, and, beckon- 
ing us to follow, he points out a narrow slop- 
ing shelf on the right, and this is to be our 
way. It leads along the cliff, for half a mile, 
to a wider bench beyond, which, he says, is 
broken down on the other side in a great 
slide, and there we can get to the river. So 
we start out on the shelf; it is so steep we 
can hardly stand on it, and to fall, or slip, 
is to go — don't look and see! 



THE RIO VIRGEN 301 

It is soon manifest that we cannot get the 
ponies along the ledge. The storms have 
washed it down, since our guide was here 
last, years ago. One of the ponies has gone 
so far that we cannot turn him back until 
we find a wider place, but at last we get 
him off. With part of the men, I take the 
horses back to the place where there are a 
few bushes growing, and turn them loose; 
in the meantime the other men are looking 
for some way by which we can get down to 
the river. When I return, one. Captain 
Bishop, has found a way, and gone down. 
We pack bread, coffee, sugar, and two or 
three blankets among us, and set out. It 
is now nearly dark, and we cannot find the 
way by which the captain went, and an hour 
is spent in fruitless search. Two of the men 
go away around an amphitheater, more than 
a fourth of a mile, and start down a broken 
chasm that faces us, who are behind. These 
walls, that are vertical, or nearly so, are often 
cut by chasms, where the showers run down, 
and the top of these chasms will be back a 



302 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

distance from the face of the wall, and the 
bed of the chasm will slope down, with here 
and there a fall. At other places, huge 
rocks have fallen, and block the way. Down 
such a one the two men start. There is a 
curious plant growing out from the crevices 
of the rock. A dozen stems will start from 
one root, and grow to the length of eight or 
ten feet, and not throw out a branch or twig, 
but these stems are thickly covered with 
leaves. Now and then the two men come 
to a bunch of dead stems, and make a fire to 
mark for us their way and progress. 

In the meantime we find such a gulch, 
and start down, but soon come to the "jump- 
ing off place," where we can throw a stone, 
and hear it faintly striking, away below. 
We fear that we shall have to stay here, 
clinging to the rocks until daylight. Our 
little Indian gathers a few dry stems, ties 
them into a bundle, lights one end, and holds 
it up. The others do the same, and with 
these torches we find a way out of trouble. 
Helping each other, holding torches for each 



THE RIO VIRGEN 303 

other, one clinging to another's hand until 
we can get footing, then supporting the other 
on his shoulders, so we make our passage 
into the depths of the canon. And now 
Captain Bishop has kindled a huge fire of 
di^iftwood, on the bank of the river. This, 
and the fires in the gulch opposite, and our 
own flaming torches, light up httle patches, 
that make more manifest the awful darkness 
below. Still, on we go, for an hour or two, 
and at last we see Captain Bishop coming 
up the gulch, with a huge torch-light on his 
shoulders. He looks like a fiend, waving 
brands and lighting the fires of hell, and the 
men in the opposite gulch are imps, lighting 
delusive fires in inaccessible crevices, over 
yawning chasms; our own little Indian is 
surely the king of wizards, so I think, as 
I stop for a few moments on a rock to rest. 
At last we meet Captain Bishop, with his 
flaming torch, and, as he has learned the way, 
he soon pilots us to the side of the great Col- 
orado. We are hungry and athirst, almost 
to starvation. Here we lie down on the 



304 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

rocks and drink, just a mouthful or so, as 
we dare ; then we make a cup of coffee, and, 
spreading our blankets on a sand beach, the 
roaring Colorado lulls us to sleep. 

September 18. — We are in the Grand 
Canon, by the side of the Colorado, more 
than six thousand feet below our camp on 
the mountain side, which is eighteen miles 
away; but the miles of horizontal distance 
represent but a small part of the day's labor 
before us. It is the mile of altitude we must 
gain that makes it a herculean task. We 
are up early; a little bread and coffee, and 
we look about us. Our conclusion is, that 
we can make this a depot of supplies, should 
it be necessary ; that we can pack our rations 
to the point where we left our animals last 
night, and that we can employ Indians to 
bring them down to the water's edge. 

On a broad shelf, we find the ruins of an 
old stone house, the walls of which are broken 
down, and we can see where the ancient peo- 
ple who lived here — a race more highly civ- 
ilized than the present—had made a garden. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 305 

and used a gi-eat spring, that comes out of 
the rocks, for irrigation. On some rocks 
near by we discover some curious etchings. 
Still, searching about, we find an obscure 
trail up the canon wall, marked, here and 
there, by steps which have been built in the 
loose rock, elsewhere hewn stairways, and 
we find a much easier way to go up than 
that by which we came down in the darkness 
last night. Coming to the top of the wall, 
we catch our horses, and start. Up the 
canon our jaded ponies toil, and we reach 
the second cliff ; up this we go, by easy stages, 
leading the animals. Now we reach the 
stinking water-pocket; our ponies have had 
no water for thirty hours, and are eager even 
for this foul fluid. We carefully strain a 
kettleful for ourselves, then divide what is 
left between them — two or three gallons for 
each; but this does not satisfy them, and 
they rage around, refusing to eat the scanty 
grass. We boil our kettle of water, and 
skim it; straining, boiling, and skimming 
makes it a little better, for it was full of 



306 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

loathsome, wriggling larvae, with huge black 
heads. But plenty of coffee takes away the 
bad smell, and so modifies the taste that most 
of us can drink, though our little Indian 
seems to prefer the original mixture. We 
reach camp about sunset, and are glad to 
rest. 

September 19. — We are tired and sore, 
and must rest a day with our Indian neigh- 
bors. During the inclement season they 
live in shelters, made of boughs, or bark of 
the cedar, which they strip off in long shreds. 
In this climate, most of the year is dry and 
warm, and during such time they do not care 
for shelter. Clearing a small, circular space 
of ground, they bank it around with brush 
and sand, and wallow in it during the day, 
and huddle together in a heap at night, men, 
women, and children; buckskin, rags, and 
sand. They wear very little clothing, not 
needing much in this lovely climate. 

Altogether, these Indians are more nearly 
in their primitive condition than any others 
on the continent with whom I am acquainted. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 307 

They have never received anything from the 
Government, and are too poor to tempt the 
trader, and their country is so nearly inac- 
cessible that the white man never visits them. 
The sunny mountain side is covered with 
wild fruits, nuts, and native grains, upon 
which they subsist. The oose^ the fruit of 
the yucca, or Spanish bayonet, is rich, and 
not unlike the paw-paw of the valley of the 
Ohio. They eat it raw, and also roast it 
in the ashes. They gather the fruits of a 
cactus plant, which is rich and luscious, and 
eat them as grapes, or from them express 
the juice, making the dry pulp into cakes, 
and saving them for winter; the wine they 
drink about their camp fires, until the mid- 
night is merry with the revelries. 

They gather the seeds of many plants, as 
sunflowers, goldenrods, and grasses. For 
this purpose, they have large conical baskets, 
which hold two or more bushels. The 
women carry them on their backs, suspended 
from their foreheads by broad straps, and 
with a smaller one in the left hand, and a 



308 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

willow woven fan in the right, they walk 
among the grasses, and sweep the seed into 
the smaller basket, which is emptied, now 
and then, into the larger, until it is full of 
seeds and chaff; then they winnow out the 
chaff and roast the seeds. They roast these 
curiously; they put the seeds, with a quan- 
tity of red hot coals, into a willow tray, and, 
by rapidly and dexterously shaking and 
tossing them, keep the coals aglow, and the 
seeds and tray from burning. As if by 
magic, so skilled are the crones in this work, 
they roll the seeds to one side of the tray, 
as they are roasted, and the coals to the 
other. Then they grind the seeds into a fine 
flour, and make it into cakes and mush. 

It is a merry sight, sometimes, to see the 
women grinding at the mill. For a mill, 
they use a large flat rock, lying on the 
ground, and another small cylindrical one 
in their hands. They sit prone on the 
ground, hold the large flat rock between the 
feet and legs, then fill their laps with seeds, 
making a hopper to the mill with their dusky 



THE RIO VIRGEN 309 

legs, and grind by pushing the seeds across 
the larger rock, where it drops into a tray. 
I have seen a group of women grinding to- 
gether, keeping time to a chant, or gossiping 
and chatting, while the younger lassies would 
jest and chatter, and make the pine woods 
merry with their laughter. Mothers carry 
their babes curiously in baskets. They make 
a wicker board, by plaiting willows, and sew 
a buckskin cloth to either edge, and this is 
fulled in the middle, so as to form a sack, 
closed at the bottom. At the top, they make 
a wicker shade, like "my grandmother's sun 
bonnet," and, wrapping the little one in a 
wild cat robe, place it in the basket, and tliis 
they carry on their backs, strapped over the 
forehead, and the little brown midgets are 
ever peering over their mother's shoulders. 
In camp, they stand the basket against the 
trunk of a tree, or hang it to a limb. 

There is little game in the country, yet 
they get a mountain sheep now and then, 
or a deer, with their arrows, for they are not 
yet supplied with guns. They get many 



310 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

rabbits, sometimes with arrows, sometimes 
with nets. They make a net of twine, made 
of the fibers of a native flax. Sometimes 
this is made a hundred yards in length, and 
is placed in a half circular position, with 
wings of sage brush. They have a circle 
hunt, and drive great numbers of rabbits 
into the snare, where they are shot with ar- 
rows. Most of their bows are made of ce- 
dar, but the best are made of the horns of 
mountain sheep. These are taken, soaked 
in water, until quite soft, cut into long thin 
strips, and glued together, and are then quite 
elastic. During the autumn, grasshoppers 
are very abundant. When cold weather sets 
in, these insects are numbed, and can be 
gathered by the bushel. At such a time, they 
dig a hole in the sand, heat stones in a fire 
near by, put some in the bottom of the hole, 
put on a layer of grasshoppers, then a layer 
of hot stones, and continue this, until they 
put bushels on to roast. There they are left 
until cool, when they are taken out, thor- 
oughly dried, and ground into meal. Grass- 



THE RIO VIRGEN 311 

hopper gruel, or grasshopper cake, is a great 
treat. 

Their lore consists in a mass of traditions, 
or mythology. It is very difficult to induce 
them to tell it to white men; but the old 
Spanish priests, in the days of the conquest 
of New Mexico, have spread among the In- 
dians of this country many Bible stories, 
which the Indians are usually wilhng to tell. 
It is not always easy to recognize them, the 
Indian mind being a strange receptacle for 
such stories, and they are apt to sprout new 
limbs. Maybe much of their added quaint- 
ness is due to the way in which they were 
told by the "fathers." But in a confidential 
way, while you are alone, or when you are 
admitted to their camp fire on a winter night, 
you will hear the stories of their mythology. 
I believe that the greatest mark of friend- 
ship, or confidence, that an Indian can give, 
is to tell you his religion. After one has so 
talked with me, I should ever trust him ; and 
I feel on very good terms with these Indians, 
since our experience of the other night. 



S12 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

A knowledge of the watering places, and 
of the trails and passes, is considered of great 
importance, and is necessary, to give stand- 
ing to a chief. 

This evening, the Slijif-vwits, for whom we 
have sent, come in, and, after supper, we 
hold a long council. A blazing fire is built, 
and around this we sit — the Indians living 
here, the SM-vwits, Jacob Hamblin, and 
myself. This man, Hamblin, speaks their 
language well, and has a great influence over 
all the Indians in the region round about. 
He is a silent, reserved man, and when he 
speaks, it is in a slow, quiet way, that inspires 
great awe. His talk is so low that they must 
listen attentively to hear, and they sit around 
him in deathhke silence. When he finishes 
a measured sentence, the chief repeats it, 
and they all give a solemn grunt. But, first, 
I fill my pipe, light it, and take a few whiffs, 
then pass it to Hamblin; he smokes, and 
gives it to the man next, and so it goes 
around. When it has passed the chief, he 
takes out his own pipe, fills, and hghts it, and 



THE RIO VIRGEN S13 

passes it around after mine. I can smoke 
my own pipe in turn, but, when the Indian 
pipe comes around, I am nonplussed. It has 
a large stem, which has, at some time, been 
broken, and now there is a buckskin rag 
wound around it, and tied with sinew, so 
that the end of the stem is a huge mouthful, 
and looks like the buiying ground of old 
dead spittle, venerable for a century. To 
gain time, I refill it, then engage in very 
earnest conversation, and, all unawares, I 
pass it to my neighbor unlighted. 

I tell the Indians that I wish to spend 
some months in their country during the com- 
ing year, and that I would like them to treat 
me as a friend. I do not wish to trade; do 
not want their lands. Heretofore I have 
found it very difficult to make the natives 
understand my object, but the gravity of 
the Mormon missionary helps me much. I 
tell them that all the great and good 
white men are anxious to know very many 
things ; that they spend much time in learn- 
ing, and that the greatest man is he who 



314i FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

knows the most. They want to know all 
about the mountains and the valleys, the 
rivers and the canons, the beasts, and birds, 
and snakes. Then I tell them of many In- 
dian tribes, and where they live; of the Eu- 
ropean nations ; of the Chinese, of Africans, 
and all the strange things about them that 
come to my mind. I tell them of the ocean, 
of great rivers and high mountains, of 
strange beasts and birds. At last I tell them 
I wish to learn about their canons and moun- 
tains, and about themselves, to tell other men 
at home ; and that I want to take pictures of 
everything, and show them to my friends. 
All this occupied much time, and the matter 
and manner made a deep impression. 

Then their chief replies: "Your talk is 
good, and we believe what you say. We be- 
lieve in Jacob, and look upon you as a 
father. When you are hungry, you may 
have our game. You may gather our sweet 
fruits. We will give you food when you 
come to our land. We will show you the 
springs, and you may drink; the water is 



THE RIO VIRGEN 315 

good. We will be friends, and when you 
come we will be glad. We will tell the In- 
dians who live on the other side of the great 
river that we have seen Ka'-pu-rats, and he is 
the Indians' friend. We will tell them he is 
Jacob's friend. We are very poor. Look 
at our women and children; they are naked. 
We have no horses ; we climb the rocks, and 
our feet are sore. We live among rocks, and 
they yield little food and many thorns. 
When the cold moons come, our children are 
hungry. We have not much to give; you 
must not think us mean. You are wise; we 
have heard you tell strange things. We are 
ignorant. Last year we killed three white 
men. Bad men said they were our enemies. 
They told great lies. We thought them 
true. We were mad; it made us big fools. 
We are very sorry. Do not think of them, 
it is done; let us be friends. We are igno- 
rant — like little children in understanding 
compared with you. When we do wrong, 
do not get mad, and be like children too. 
"When white men kill our people, we kill 



316 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

them. Then they kill more of us. It is not 
good. We hear that the white men are a 
great number. When they stop killing us, 
there will be no Indian left to bury the dead. 
We love our country; we know not other 
lands. We hear that other lands are better ; 
we do not know. The pines sing, and we 
are glad. Our children play in the warm 
sand ; we hear them sing, and are glad. The 
seeds ripen, and we have to eat, and we are 
glad. We do not want their good lands; 
we want our rocks, and the great mountains 
where our fathers lived. We are very poor ; 
we are very ignorant ; but we are very honest. 
You have horses, and many things. You are 
very wise ; you have a good heart. We will 
be friends. Nothing more have I to say." 

Ka^-pu-rats is the name by which I am 
known among the Utes and Shoshones, 
meaning '*arm off." There was much more 
repetition than I have given, and much em- 
phasis. After this a few presents were 
given, we shook hands, and the council broke 
up. 



THE RIO VIRGEN 317 

Mr. Hamblin fell into conversation with 
one of the men, and held him until the others 
had left, and then learned more of the par- 
ticulars of the death of the three men. They 
came upon the Indian village almost starved 
and exhausted with fatigue. They were 
supplied with food, and put on their way to 
the settlements. Shortly after they had left, 
an Indian from the east of the Colorado 
arrived at their village, and told them about 
a number of miners having killed a squaw 
in drunken brawl, and no doubt these were 
the men. No person had ever come down 
the canon; that was impossible; they were 
trying to hide their guilt. In this way he 
worked them into a great rage. They fol- 
lowed, surrounded the men in ambush, and 
filled them full of arrows.* 

That night I slept in peace, although these 
murderers of my men, and their friends, the 
TJ-in-ha-rets^ were sleeping not five hundred 
yards away. While we were gone to the 

* The murder of the two Howlands and Dunn was com- 
mitted at what is now known as Ambush Waterpocket, 
south of Mount Dellenbaugh. {Ed.) 



318 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

canon, the pack-train and supplies, enough 
to make an Indian rich beyond his wildest 
dreams, were all left in their charge, and were 
all safe; not even a lump of sugar was pil- 
fered by the children. 

September 20. — For several days we have 
been discussing the relative merits of several 
names for these mountains. The Indians 
call them U-in-ha-rets, the region of pines, 
and we adopt the name. The gixat moun- 
tain we call Mount Trumbull, in honor of 
the Senator. To-day the train starts back 
to the caiion water-pocket, while Captain 
Bishop and I climb Mount Trumbull. On 
our way we pass the point that was the last 
opening to the volcano. 

It seems but a few years since the last 
flood of fire swept the valley. Between two 
rough, conical hills it poured, and ran down 
the valley to the foot of a mountain standing 
almost at the lower end, then parted, and 
ran on either side of the mountain. This 
last overflow is very plainly marked; there 
is soil, with trees and grass, to the very edge 



THE RIO VIRGEN 619 

of it, on a more ancient bed. The flood was 
everywhere on its border from ten to twenty 
feet in height, terminating abruptly, and 
looking like a v/all from below. On cool- 
ing, it shattered into fragments, but these are 
still in place, and you can see the outlines 
of streams and waves. So little time has 
elapsed since it ran down, that the elements 
have not weathered a soil, and there is 
scarcely any vegetation on it, but here and 
there a lichen is found. And yet, so long 
ago was it poured from the depths, that 
where ashes and cinders have collected in a 
few places, some huge cedars have grown. 
Near the crater the frozen waves of black 
basalt are rent with deep fissures, transverse 
to the direction of the flow. Then we ride 
through a cedar forest, up a long ascent, until 
we come to cliffs of columnar basalt. Here 
we tie our horses, and prepare for a climb 
among the columns. Through crevices we 
work, till at last we are on the mountain, a 
thousand acres of pine land spread out be- 
fore us, gently rising to the other edge. 



320 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 

There are two peaks on the mountain. We 
walked two miles to the foot of the one look- 
ing to be the highest, then a long, hard climb 
to its summit. And here, oh, what a view 
is before us ! A vision of glory ! Peaks of 
lava all around below us. The Vermilion 
Cliffs to the north, with their splendor of 
colors; the Pine Valley Mountain to the 
northwest, clothed in mellow, perspective 
haze; unnamed mountains to the southwest, 
towering over canons, bottomless to my peer- 
ing gaze, hke chasms to the nadir hell; and 
away beyond, the San Francisco Mountains, 
lifting their black heads into the heavens. 
We find our way down the mountain, reach- 
ing the trail made by the pack-train just at 
dusk. 

Two days more, and we are at Pipe 
Spring; one day, and we are at Kanab. 
Eight miles above the town is a canon, on 
either side of which is a group of lakes. By 
the side of one of these I sit, the crystal wa- 
ters at my feet, at which I may drink at will. 

THE END 



OUTING 
ADVENTURE 
LIBRARY 

Edited by Horace Kephart 

fl Here are brought together for the first time the great stories of 
adventure of all ages atiid countries. These are the personal records 
of the men who climbed the mountains and penetrated the jungles; 
who e:zplored the seas and crossed the deserts; who knew the 
chances and took them, and lived to write their own tales of hard- 
ship and endurance and achievement. The series will consist of 
an indeterminate number of volumes — for the stories are myriad. 
The whole will be edited by Horace Kephart. Each volume 
answers the test of these two questions : Is it true ? Is it interesting? 
€| The entire series is uniform in style and binding. Among the 
titles now ready or in preparation are those described on the fol 
lowing pages. 

PRICE $1.00 EACH, NET. POSTAGE 10 CENTS EXTRA 
THE NUMBERS MAKE ORDERING CONVENIENT 

1. IN THE OLD WEST, by George Frederick 
Ruxton. The men who blazed the trail across the Rockies to the 
Pacific were the independent trappers and hunters in the days 
before the Mexican war. They left no records of their adventures 
and most of them linger now only as shadowy names. But a young 
Englishman lived among them for a time, saw life from their point 
of view, trapped with them and fought with them against the 
Indians. That was George Frederick Ruxton. His story is our 
only complete picture of the Old West in the days of the real 
Pioneers, of Kit Carson, Jim Bridger, Bill Williams, the Sublettes, 
and all the rest of that glorious company of the forgotten who 
opened the West. 



2. CASTAWAYS AND CRUSOES, Since the begin- 
nings of navigation men have faced the dangers of shipwreck 
and starvation. Scattered through the annals of the sea are the 
stories of those to whom disaster came and the personal records of 
the way they met it. Some of them are given in this volume, narra- 
tives of men who lived by their hands among savages and on forlorn 
coasts, or drifted helpless in open boats. They range from the 
South Seas to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, from the iron coast of Pata- 
gonia to the shores of Cuba. They are echoes from the days when 
the best that could be hoped by the man who went to sea was hard- 
ship and man's-sized work. 

3, CAPTIVES AMONG THE INDIANS. First of all 

is the story of Captain James Smith, who was captured by the Dela- 
wares at the time of Braddock's defeat, was adopted into the tribe, 
and for four years lived as an Indian, hunting with them, studying 
their habits, and learning their point of view. Then there is the 
story of Father Bressani who felt the tortures of the Iroquois, of 
Mary Rowlandson who was among the human spoils of King 
Philip's war, and of Mercy Harbison who suifered in the red flood 
that followed St. Clair's defeat. All are personal records made by 
the actors themselves in those days when the Indian was constantly 
at our forefathers's doors. 



4. FIRST THROUGH THE GRAND CANYON, by 

Major John Wesley Powell. Major Powell was an officer in the 
Union Army who lost an arm at Shiloh. In spite of this four years 
after the war he organized an expedition which explored the Grand 
Canyon of the Colorado in boats — the first to make this journey. His 
story has been lost for years in the oblivion of a scientific report. 
It is here rescued and presented as a record of one of the great 
personal exploring feats, fitted to rank with the exploits of Pike, 
Lewis and Clark, and Mackenzie. 

5. ADRIFT IN THE ARCTIC ICE-PACK, By 

Elis&a Kent Kane, M. D. Out of the many expeditions that 
went north in search of Sir John Franklin over fifty years ago, it fell 
to the lot of one, financed by a New York merchant, to spend an 
Arctic winter drifting aimlessly in the grip of the Polar ice in Lan- 
caster Sound. The surgeon of the expedition kept a careful diary 
and out of that record told the first complete story of a Far Northern 
winter. That story is here presented, shorn of the purely scientific 
data and stripped to the personal exploits and adventures of the 
author and the other members of the crew. 






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